The Sure Thing (1985)
Gib: [talks to Alison while she swims] I flunk English, I'm outta here. Kiss college goodbye. I don't know what I'll do. Dad will be pissed off. Mom will be heartbroken. If I play my cards right, I get maybe a six-month grace period and then I gotta get a job, and you know what that means.
[Alison ignores him]
Gib: That's right, they start me at the drive-up window and I gradually work my way up from shakes to burgers, and then one day my lucky break comes: the french fry guy dies and they offer me the job! But the day I'm supposed to start, some men come by in a black Lincoln Continental and tell me I can make a quick 300 just for driving a van back from Mexico! When I get out of jail I'm 36 years old. Living in a flop house. No job. No home. No upward mobility. Very few teeth. And then one day they find me, face down, talking to the gutter, clutching a bottle of paint thinner. And *why*? Because *you* wouldn't help me in English, no! You were too busy to help me! Too busy to help a drowning man!
[he falls into the pool]
Gib: You know, I've never met anyone like you before. Usually when I meet someone new I feel awkward and shy. But with you it's different. I can talk to you. You know what I'm thinking without my having to explain to you in fancy terms. We speak each other's unspoken language... fluently. I love you.
Alison: You'll never believe what I wanted to be when I was six.
Gib: A classics professor?
Lady in Car: What are you gonna name it?
Alison Bradbury: What?
Lady in Car: The baby.
Alison Bradbury: [realizing she's faking being pregnant] Oh, the baby. Well, if it's a girl, Cynthia, and if it's a boy, Elliot.
Lady in Car: Those are lovely names.
Walter (Gib) Gibson: Elliot? You're gonna name the kid Elliot? No, you can't name the kid Elliot. Elliot is a fat kid with glasses who eats paste. You're not gonna name the kid Elliot. You gotta give him a real name. Give him a name. Like Nick.
Alison Bradbury: Nick?
Walter (Gib) Gibson: Yeah, Nick. Nick's a real name. Nick's your buddy. Nick's the kind of guy you can trust, the kind of guy you can drink a beer with, the kind of guy who doesn't mind if you puke in his car, Nick!
[Alison looks disgusted]
Walter (Gib) Gibson: [to Lady in Car] Oh, vomit. I'm sorry. Vomit.
Gib: You know, junk food doesn't deserve the bad rap that it gets. Take these pork rinds for example. This particular brand contains two percent of the R.D.A. - that's Recommended Daily Allowance - of riboflavin.
Trucker: I hope you appreciate the magnitude of your impending good fortune.
Cowboy Guy: I was in Paris once with my wife... boy am I glad she's dead.
Gib: [opening lines] Consider outer space. You know, from the time of the first NASA mission, it was clear that outer space has a clear effect on the human psyche. Why, during the first Gemini mission, thought was actually given to sending up a man and a woman... together.
Julie: [interested] Really?
Gib: A cosmic 'Adam and Eve,' if you will. Bound together by fate, situated on the most powerful rocket yet known to man. It's giant thrusters blasting them into the dark void, as they hurtle towards their final destination: the gushing wellspring of life itself.
[she is entranced]
Gib: How would you like to have a sexual encounter so intense it could conceivably change your political views?
Gib: What the hell's wrong with being stupid once in awhile? Does everything you do always have to be sensible? Haven't you ever thrown waterballoons off a roof? When you were a little kid didn't you ever sprinkle Ivory flakes on the living room floor 'cause you wanted to make it snow in July? Didn't you ever get really shitfaced and maybe make a complete fool of yourself and still have an excellent time?
Lance's frat brother: Three thousand miles just to get laid. I really respect that.
Gib: Sorry I'm late. There was this big problem... and I'm late because of it.
Alison: What are you doing?
Gib: I'm going to bed.
Alison: Not with me you're not.
Gib: I'm not going to bed with you, I'm going to bed in a bed you happen to be in also.
Alison: [ranting about Gib] And you should see the crap he eats! Cheese balls and beer for breakfast!
Jason: [shocked] How do you know what he eats for breakfast?
Alison Bradbury: [checking her calendar] Let's see, Friday. 5:30, dinner. 6:00, Calculus. 7:00, news. 7:30, shower. 7:45, phone call. Eight o'clock?
Gib: [sarcastic] Gee, I don't know. That's when I rearrange my sock drawer.
Gary Cooper: Hi, I'm Gary Cooper, but not the Gary Cooper that's dead.
Professor Taub: [reading Gib's Paper] 'It could be tonight,' he though as he stood in the corner, pretending to have a good time. He would meet her tonight. All his young life, he had dreamed of a girl like this. 5'6, silky hair, trim, nubile body. Nubile, by the way, is spelled with a "u".
Professor Taub: Trim, nubile body that really knew how to move. And soft, deeply tanned skin. Now as for personality traits, she needed only one. She had to love sex and all the time. To arrive at this moment, he had traveled vast distances enduring many hardships. Abject poverty, starvation, show tunes, you name it. From across the room, he saw her. She was perfect. He knew almost nothing about her and she didn't know much more about him. It was exactly how it was supposed to be. He brought her to his room. The lights were soft, the moment was right. Then she leaned over and whispered in his ear, 'Do you love me?' Thoughts raced through his mind. Did she really want him? What had he done to deserve this bounty? Does God exist? Who invented liquid soap and why? 'Do you love me?' Staring into her eyes he knew that she really needed to hear it but for the first time in his life, he knew these were no longer just words and if he said it, it would be a lie. 'Do you love me?' she whispered. 'Do you love me?' It would not be tonight. The answer was no.
Cop: [reading off citations to Gary Cooper] Indecent exposure, driving as so to endanger...
Gib: ...Driving with the load not properly tied down.
Lance: Gib, you want a relationship? That's fine. Just remember that every relationship starts with a one night stand. You came 3,000 miles for a reason didn't you? Would you look at that reason. Go for it Gib, you've earned it.
Gib: [encounter a padlocked trailer while attempting to get out of the rain] It's locked! Good! This is very good! It's important that this place should have an air-tight security system... in the middle of nowhere!
Alison: [digs through her bag] I might have a nail file... I have a credit card. I have a credit card!
Gib: Credit cards work on a completely different kind of lock.
Gib: No, you don't seem to understand. I have a credit card!
Gib: You have a credit card?
Alison: I have a credit card!
Gib: [relieved] You have a credit card.
Alison: [suddenly crestfallen] Oh. My dad told me *specifically* I can only use it in case of an emergency.
Gib: [sarcastically] Well, maybe one will come up.
[after seeing Alison]
Gib's friend: Forget her, I hear she only likes intellectuals
Gib: So? I'm intellectual and stuff.
Gib's friend: You're flunking English. That's your mother tongue, and stuff.
Fat Guy in Bar: What's wrong with me? I'm a good-looking guy.
Gib: You are. You are a good-looking guy. And I'm a good-looking guy.
Fat Guy in Bar: You are.
Gib: I am.
Cowboy Guy: We're all three good-looking guys.
Gib: That's right. We are. And it's Christmas time, and I'm gonna buy you a drink.
Fat Guy in Bar: Something light...
Gib: What, like a nice Chablis?
Fat Guy in Bar: No... Spritzer.
Fat Guy in Bar: Yeah.
Gib: Barkeep! Get this man a trough of Spritzer. And you, Cowboy Guy, what do you wanna drink?
Cowboy Guy: I'll have a beer.
Gib: Get Cowboy Guy a beer.
Professor Taub: [commenting on students' papers] Miss Bradbury. You, on the other hand, you express your ideas very clearly. Except that, your paper is dry, Alison. There's not enough of *you* coming through. Loosen up, Alison. Have some fun! Yes, sleep when you feel like it, not when you think you should. Eat food that is bad for you - at least once in a while. Have conversations with people whose clothes are not color coordinated.
Professor Taub: Make love in a hammock!
[class hoots, hollers, and high-fives]
Professor Taub: Life is the ultimate experience, and you have to live it to write about it.
[Alison raises her hand]
Professor Taub: Yes, Alison?
Alison Bradbury: What did you say after "hammock?"
Gib: [slams Lance against a wall after a conversation with the Sure Thing] You told her I was a virgin?
Lance: So I exaggerated a little. Girls like virgins. They find them a challenge.
Gib: She thought I was gay!
Lance: It's a bigger challenge.
Fat Guy in Bar: I had some more fried food for lunch.
[waitress gives him a look]
Fat Guy in Bar: I know, I know, I shouldn't have had it but I just couldn't help myself. Do you think I lack self-discipline?
Alison: You can't go in there.
Gib: Yes I can. This is America, you can go anywhere.
Walter (Gib) Gibson: [dancing with the Sure Thing, shouting over the loud party music so Alison will hear] So, what else did Lance say about me?
The Sure Thing: [loudly] He said you're a virgin.
Walter (Gib) Gibson: What?
The Sure Thing: [the music stops just as she says] He thinks you might be gay.
[everybody hears, stops and stares at them]
Walter (Gib) Gibson: [Gib pretends to laugh, then mutters] Don't say that!
The Sure Thing: I didn't say it, Lance said it!
[the music starts up again]
Walter (Gib) Gibson: [loud] Excuse me won't you, I have to go and kick the shit out of someone. Just one second.
Alison: You didn't sleep with her?
Gib: Still seeing Jason?
Alison: Broke up.
Gib: That's too bad.
Alison: You didn't sleep with her.
Gib: Wasn't my type.
Walter (Gib) Gibson: [suddenly appearing from hiding in the back of the pick-up and hopping into the passenger seat] Thanks for the ride. I've been out here all day. I'm not interrupting anything am I?
Pick-Up Driver: [holding Alison] Me and the wife just having a little squabble, OK.
Walter (Gib) Gibson: Oh. It's not easy getting rides. Do you know what I mean? I mean most people are real afraid to pick up hitchhikers. I mean you never know who you might pick up. I mean I could be some crazed slime ball. I mean a real deranged, violent psycho. You know what I mean? I mean a guy who would rip out your heart and eat it
Walter (Gib) Gibson: just for pleasure.
Walter (Gib) Gibson: I'm talking about a total maniac! You know what I mean?
Walter (Gib) Gibson: DO YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN?
Pick-Up Driver: [unsettled] Yeah...
Walter (Gib) Gibson: [looks around nervously] Why aren't we moving?
Walter (Gib) Gibson: Don't you want to give me a ride?
Pick-Up Driver: I'm only goin' about another mile.
Walter (Gib) Gibson: [flipping out] Then what the hell did you pick me up for? You think I got nothing better to do with my life then to sit here and pass the time with you,
[leans over inches away from his face]
Walter (Gib) Gibson: SHIT BRAAAIN!
Walter (Gib) Gibson: I don't think I want this ride after all.
[gets out, then comes back]
Walter (Gib) Gibson: And I think I think I'll take your wife, if you don't mind.
[Gib pulls the relieved Alison out of the pick-up, cackling maniacally]