Shannon Hamilton: That's it. You're dead, mallrat! I'm gonna fuck you up beyond repair.
Brodie: Ladies and gentlemen, this tall drink of water headed my way is a pillar of the shopping community who informed me earlier today of a nefarious plan of his to screw my girlfriend in an extremely uncomfortable place.
Gil Hicks: What... like the back of a Volkswagen?
Brodie: I love the smell of commerce in the morning.
Gwen: Tell me about the elevator.
Brodie: It goes up-and-down. Ba-dump-tsss.
Brodie: You fuckers think just because a guy reads comics he can't start some shit?
T.S. Quint: You should see yourself right now - a grown man with his hand down his pants.
Brodie: Yeah, I probably look like my old man.
Brodie: Say, would you like a chocolate covered pretzel? They're a little melty but damn are they exquisite.
Ivannah: It's the third nipple that does it.
T.S. Quint: Oh, you have a third nipple? I didn't notice.
Brodie: What are you talking about? It's as clear as day! Look at it for god's sake.
Ivannah: You can stare at it. I don't mind.
Brodie: You're going to listen to me? To something that I said? Hell, most of the time I'm just talking out of my ass... or sticking my hand in it.
T.S. Quint: Why do palm reading topless?
Brodie: It makes the news easier to take. She could tell me I was going to die in ten minutes, just as long as she told me topless.
T.S. Quint: Your maleness amazes me sometimes.
Brodie: You used to like tits too.
T.S. Quint: Hey, I love tits as much as the next guy, but why should I pay some old hag good money for some supernatural chicanery coupled with a pair of sagging wrinkled weathered boobs?
Brodie: That kid is back... on the escalator again.
T.S. Quint: Maybe he's calmed down, we'll talk about it reasonably.
Brodie: Reasonably shmeasonably, you should go over there and give him shit.
