Heavy Traffic (1973)
[Angie comes home to find Ida praying]
Angie: Hey, I thought you'd be sleepin'. Hey, Ida, what are you doin' up?
Ida: Praying for the dead.
Angie: Who died?
Ida: Someone close...
Angie: Anyone I know?
Ida: YOU die!
[knocks him out with a frying pan]
Ida: Twenty three years of suffering! So go marry an Italian. Stays out all night with some dumb whore. Catholics don't get divorced! Big deal. I died the day I married a goy! Now it's your turn Angie! Roast in Hell!
[starts shoving his head into the oven]
Ida: I got one left over!
[shoves him inside and turns on the gas]
Ida: Go meet your marries and Josephs!
Old Black Musician: [singing] All the world is sad and dreary/ Everywhere I roam...
[after escaping Ida's oven]
Angie: Your mother is a goddamn crazy bitch, Michael!
[Ida throws a meat cleaver from O.S. that hits between Angie's legs]
Angie: Mother of God-!
[looks down his pants]
Angie: Thank God she needs glasses!
Moe: Hey, It's Michael Corleone! What's you doin' now?
[makes pigeon noises]
Moe: What's you doin' now?
Michael: Hey, crazy man! How come you're not down in your basement?
Moe: Well, I, I came to kill your pigeon, boy.
Michael: Ah, that's bullshit, Moe, you're probably peekin' down at the ladies.
Moe: Yeah! My peekin' days long shut down, Michael.
Moe: I ain't there no more. I just ain't there.
[plays his harmonica]
Michael: Ah, you're just a crazy nigger, Moe. Just a goddamn crazy nigger.
Moe: We's all niggers, boy! Ha ha! You an' me, just goddamn crazy niggers! We's all niggers boy. Most of us don't know it yet.
Michael: [passing a joint to Moe] Hey, listen, you want some of this shit?
Moe: Even your pigeon's a nigger! Ha ha ha ha ha! That's why I'm gonna kill him.
Michael: Moe, you ain't gonna do shit!
Moe: Moe: I just ain't there. Every - everybody plays like they there... but they ain't there. I ain't there. Your pigeon ain't there! He flies high like he there, but he don't fly 'less you open that cage. And he got to come back 'cause he's trained to! He ain't there.
Ollie: [pressuring Michael to have sex with a naked girl]
Ollie: Say hello to Rosalyn, Mike.
Rosalyn: Hiya, Mike. I've heard a lot about you...
Ollie: She's good, Mike! She's good!
Rosalyn: Everyone says you're a virgin, Michael.
Michael: Wait a minute! Don't even believe that! You know, everybody talks, they think they know everything. Well, nobody knows nothing. I mean, do I look like a virgin to you?
[Ollie and his friends laugh]
[after accidentally knocking Rosalyn off the roof]
Michael: She had it coming.
Bongo: Sonofabitch... this broad's got a hard-on!
Michael: Uh, are you serious about stayin' with me? Cause, I mean, it's really okay with me. I mean, if I could... I could sleep on the floor, and you could... I mean...
Carole: Listen here, white boy, don't hand me that honky shit. "Stay with you." You ain't got nothin' goin' for you. Damn, man! First you help me get my ass kicked out of a good gig, then, cause you think I need you for a few goddamn minutes, you try to jive-ass me for a quick lay? Now, listen here, boy!
[pats her behind]
Carole: As long as Carole got this here good thing,
[taps her head]
Carole: and this here left, ha ha ha! She don't need ANYTHING else unless she wants it, and child, I don't want it.
[Carole shows up at Michael's apartment after being stalked by Shorty]
Carole: Surprise, Sugar. You're on. What you gonna do about it? I mean, you're on for a few days 'til I hook it up?
Michael: Uh, yeah, sure, of course. Right on.
Carole: Right on!
[removing her top]
Carole: Sugar, don't you mean right OFF?
Carole: Well, ain't this some shit.
God: Hey, Warren! This is the voice of God!
Warren: What's up?
Carole: Listen, Michael. Uh, first thing in the morning, we will take them big-ass drawings of yours up to one of them big cartoon syndicates. You can sell 'em, we'll get some bread, get our clothes out of Angie's house and split for San Francisco. And Shorty can't roll that far.
Michael: I'm gonna tell you, Carole, I don't wanna sell my cartoons to one of them places. They, uh - they ain't gonna buy that crap anyway. I'm an underground cartoonist. That's - that's where I belong.
Carole: So why don't you sell your stuff to your underground friends?
Michael: They don't wanna buy any.
Carole: Now, why that, Mr. Underground?
Michael: 'Cause, well, uh...
[in whisper to Carole]
Michael: I still jack off.
Carole: [Laughing] You are cool!
Angie: [referring to Carole] What'd your Jewish momma do now, hire a cleaning lady?
Michael: Pop, this is my girlfriend.
Angie: Get that nigger out of my house!
[a hand comes into the screen and onto Michael's neck in a choking fashion]
[the scene pulls back to reveal Ollie]
Ollie: Hey, man, do I look like a nigger to you? I mean - I mean, like, take a good, clean look.
Michael: A good, clean look would be refreshing, Ollie.
Angie: Is that the Godfather?
Mobster: Yeah, he wants to watch personally. You see, the olive oil those strikers ain't movin' comes from the Godfather's own factory.
Angie: Jesus Christ!
Mobster: What's that?
Angie: Blacks. That's my ace in the hole. Blacks! They work for me. Like dogs they work. Those bastards don't want to load the Father's oil, I'm gonna bring in my blacks to move it. Blacks man, blacks! Pretty sharp, huh?
[gets up to address the strikers as a tarantella underscore plays]
Angie: Everyone goes back to work today! Right? This is Angelo Corleone talkin'! We don't recognize unions on this dock! All we recognize is men who wanna work! There's the boxes to load, there's the pavement, there's the ship. There's no union here! We don't need no commies and Jews here. So let's go, huh? What do you say men?
Men: [in rythm with the underscore] Fuck you!
[the Godfather's car drives off]
Angie: What happened? Why'd the Godfather leave?
Mobster: The Godfather's very strict about this. He don't want no niggers touching his olive oil. You shoulda known that.
Four Black Prostitutes: Hey, hey, hey! If it ain't Carole - the Head Motherfucker!
Three Black Prostitutes: Why not come down and join us, honey? The bread's good, and you can keep all the white boys you want.
Carole: If Miss Carole comes down, you ladies gonna starve for lack of work. But seein' as how I'm basically good natured, I'll forget that. Now, I was wonderin' if you ladies...
Second Prostitute: That's right!
Third Prostitute: That's us.
Fourth Prostitute: Especially me, honey!
Carole: -Would know of any action other than her own that Carole could get her ass into?
Fourth Prostitute: [after knocking out a reluctant customer] Excuse me, but do you have a wife?
[pockets his money]
Fourth Prostitute: Well then, child, you really in need of my services.
Angie: [visiting the Godfather] I have a problem that I need your help in. I need your help this time! I want to put out a contract on my sons' life because he is living in disrespect with a COLORED GIRL!
The Godfather: That is-a personal. Not-a business. That is-a personal. Idiota! Imbecile!
The Godfather: Fungula!
Ollie: Good evening, Godfather. I thought you should know - I just saw those niggers load your olive oil. You know, Angie's niggers.
[Michael is working as Carole's manager at a dance hall]
Carole: What are you doin' Michael?
Michael: [dressed as a pimp] I'm gittin' wid' it, Carole! A really zooty cash 'n booty funky and booty razzmattazz!
Carole: [laughs] Well, Zoot, how's about razzatazzin' up a dollar twenty-five cent dance for us?
Michael: All righty! A'righty jazz and hot licks!
[stops an elderly customer]
Michael: Pops, I'd like you to meet and dance with the fourth Andrews Sister!
Customer: The fourth?
Michael: Yeah, because she was black, they kept her in the back.
Ida: [drunk] Oh, my God. I haven't seen these pictures in so long... oh, how terrific! Look at that. There's cousin Harry, and Larry... and Rosella! We never were sure about her. Oh, and she married the Ice Man, yeh. Mama always said nothing would ever happen with her, with her pimples and her bad nose and eyes... And there's Mama! Oh, how gorgeous she was.
[a photo of a young girl appears]
Ida: And who is this beauty? Oh my God... it's me.
[Carole and Michael have been fired and Michael has hit her]
Carole: What's your problem?
Michael: Shit, man, I got no time for this bullshit! That's all it is, it's all a bunch of bullshit!
Carole: Listen, mother, we just got to get it together. A couple of jobs ain't nothin. This world ain't gonna drop its drawers easy for you, just like you think I'm gonna do for you. And I've been playing easy games, bringing you along slow. But seein' as how you don't know a friend when you sees one, let's see the kind of balls you got for a real man's game. Okay, creep?
Michael: You're on, nigger!
First black tramp: [runs into an old friend in an alley and happily greets him] Hey! You motherfucker, what's happenin'?
Second black tramp: Eh? Elijah?
First black tramp: Yeah! Whoo! What you doin'? Look a-here!
Second black tramp: I never thought I'd meet you here! You told me you was never gonna come back here. I thought I was never gonna see you here again.
First black tramp: Aaah, shit.
Second black tramp: You know. I mean, you should be back blowin' your horn.
Michael: What makes you happy? What makes you happy? Where do you go? Where do you go? Where do you hide? Where do you hide? Who do you see? Who do you see? Who do you trust? Who do you trust? Who do you screw? Who do you screw? What kills the pain? What kills the pain? Game up, game win. Bug around, set it straight. Transaction. Play it hard, hurts so bad. Gotta win. Everyone loses. Everthing loses. Gotta win big. Sick and tired of losing. Where does it all go? Where does it all go? Where does it lead us? Where does it lead us? Tilt City, Pinball Alley. Blinkin' lights shot to Hell, fuck it all!