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Ford Fairlane: 1969 Fender Stratocaster, original pick-ups, maple neck, strung upside down for a left-handed motherfucking genius, Jimi Hendrix.
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Major Ashley-Pitt: In our experience, Americans are uncouth misfits who should be run out of their own barbaric country.
Matthew Quigley: Well, Lieutenant.
Major Ashley-Pitt: Major.
Matthew Quigley: Major. We already run the misfits outta our country. We sent 'em back to England.
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Miss Bianca: Come on, darling. Let's get a move out.
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Martian Soldier: Sir, the Arcturans have destroyed the remainder of the fleet. I sent a distress signal to all ships across the galaxy, but we're headed straight into their sun, and our engines are about to explode.
Enforcer Drone: I have not yet begun to fight.
Martian Soldier: Now would be a great time to start.
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Brad Little: Mr. Preston, this operation will be a failure if we all die.
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Jack Merridew: Whats the matter tits! Were you afraid to bring it with you? Anyway the conch doesn't count anymore, Miss Piggy-tits.
Ralph: Stop that.
Jack Merridew: Nobody's interested in you and your fucking conch! Why don't you just take your fat friend and shove off! you've had all the meat you can eat. Come on hunters! Rogers the pig.
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Aunt Betty: There. What are you studying?
Troy McGreggor: French Revolution.
Aunt Betty: Oh, that looks more like World War Two.
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Rick Jarmin: I haven't had a girlfriend for 5 years.
Marianne Graves: Really?
Rick: Yeah - Mr. Wiggly's been on bread and water for 5 years.
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Huey Walker: You know, Buckner, if it hadn't've been for you, I'd be in a warm cell right now.
John Buckner: Yeah, being beaten by a nice, warm, rubber hose.