Jakob Elinsky: What do we say to him?
Frank Slaughtery: We say nothin'. The guy's going to hell for seven years, what are going do wish him luck?
Jakob Elinsky: I kissed her.
Frank Slaughtery: You what?
Jakob Elinsky: My student. I, I kissed her.
Frank Slaughtery: Who are you trying to be... R. Kelly?
Jakob Elinsky: Jesus Christ.
Frank Slaughtery: Yeah.
Jakob Elinsky: Yeah, the New York Times says the air is bad down here.
Frank Slaughtery: Well, fuck the Times... I read the Post.
Frank Slaughtery: EPA says it's fine.
Jakob Elinsky: Well, somebody's lying.
Frank Slaughtery: You know, you're wearing a striped shirt with a striped tie, you know that, right?
Phelan: Yeah, I do it for the ladies.
Frank Slaughtery: Oh - the ladies ever tell you that you look like a fucking optical illusion?
Phelan: Yeah?
Frank Slaughtery: Go away, disappear... come on.
Phelan: I'm outta here.
Naturelle Riviera: One minute ago, you were my friend. Are you drunk? Tell me you've been drinking too much. You're fucking drunk.
Frank Slaughtery: I'm Irish. I can't get drunk, all right? I know exactly what I'm saying.
Dave: We can defeat these pea-brained lizard shits.
Sheriff Rick: You be careful, son.
Tripp: Rick. I'm sorry I said all those terrible things about you,.
Sheriff Rick: Wait. What?
Private Jackson: What I mean by that, sir, is if you was to put me and this here sniper rifle anywhere up to and including one mile from Adolf Hitler... With a clean line of sight... Pack your bags, fellas. War's over. Amen.
Border Patrolman: How many got away?
Mike Norton: Three.
Border Patrolman: Well, someone's got to pick strawberries.
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