Street Trash (1987)
Nick Duran: You're a fucking dead man, you fucking rat. You know what a fucking dead man is? That's what you are, a fucking dead man.
Doorman: Yeah? Well I'll tell you something. I'd rather be dead than wear this fucking monkey suit. I look like Bullwinkle.
Wife In Car: Hurry up, let's make the light. You know how much I hate this neighborhood.
Wife In Car: Honey, here comes one.
[Bronson pushes down on the hood]
Wife In Car: Oh! Look! Look what he's doing to the car!
Husband In Car: Don't worry about it. Everyone's got to make a living you know.
Wife In Car: Honey!
Husband In Car: Don't do that. I'm only gonna...
Husband In Car: Hey, how're you doing there? Vet, huh?
Wife In Car: He's touching the car.
Husband In Car: Look, I'll handle it, it's okay, alright?
Wife In Car: Look what he's doing to the car! He's touching the car!
Husband In Car: Let me handle it, okay?
Husband In Car: How're you doing? Y'know, I'm a G-3 at Fort Swansworth on weekends? The Reserves? Y'know they let me shoot one of those M-12 machine guns, y'know those ones you guys had in 'Nam? Pretty fun. Can y - can you get this spot right...?
Wife In Car: Get him away from the car!
Husband In Car: [Pointing] Just this spot...
[Bronson grabs him, pulls him out of the window]
Bronson: [Curses incomprehensibly] Let's go!
[He slams Husband In Car's face into the car windshield. Wife In Car screams. Bums flee in terror]
Bronson: Weekend warrior.
[after storming into Ed's liquor store, pointing a finger in Ed's face]
Fred: Fuck you. Gimme a bottle of booze, here's my dollar, suck my dick!
Burt: Well, what you starin' at, bitch?
Old Woman Shopper: You're robbing the store, young man! And I'm telling the Manager.
Burt: Yeah, you do that. Old wrinkled, honky motherfucker. Telling on me... Well, what she think this is, Junior High?
Burt: Ain't good for the image, Fred. You looked too god damn comfortable! people ain't gonna pity you no more!
Fred: I don't know how I managed to look comfortable. Fuckin'Wizzy planted his foot halfway up my ass.
Burt: Oh, well, he was just plantin' corn. Get it? Corn... his foot! In yo' ass! Ha ha! Hey, where's your sense of humor, boy?
Fred: I lost it when Wizzy kicked me in the ass!
Doorman: Everybody's a hot-headed gangster. Everybody's Mister Mafia. Ha! The Don! The Don of Douchebags, that's what you are. Nick - Nick the Dick. That's what they call you, behind your back, you and your restaurant. Your stinkin' restaurant.
Bitchy Businesswoman: [Refering to a friend, whose face is melting] Officer, he's in tremendous pain, can't you do something?
Bill The Cop: Lady, I can only save one person at a time.
Bitchy Businesswoman: What, because he's a male?
Bill The Cop: Did anybody throw anything?
Concerned Businessman: Sss - no, it suddenly happened - suddenly - uh...
Bitchy Businesswoman: Can I talk now? Why don't you do something for this man and stop following the rules?
Bill The Cop: Lady, what's the difference between you and a tape recorder except that I can't shut you off?
Bitchy Businesswoman: You know, you're the type of cop that would use a traffic violation as a ruse to pull me over and rape me.
Bill The Cop: Baby, I ain't sure you don't got a cock.
Store Manager: [Arrives with the old lady] Excuse me, sir...
Burt: Well, hey! What'd you say brother! Hey look, can you tell me when this here product expires?
Store Manager: I'd like to know what you're doing with all that chicken in your pants.
Burt: Say what?
Store Manager: You heard me.
Burt: Well yeah I heard you, but I don't understand. Because it's clear to me that what I'm doing is shopping.
Store Manager: This lady said that you were taking food out of the display cases and stuffing it down your pants and that certainly seems to be the case to me. Are you planning on paying for this food?
Burt: No I ain't planning to paying for it, because I alreay purchased it!
[Shows the clerk a coupon that was dropped outside]
Store Manager: This is all dog food on this list and that's chicken comming out of your pants!
Burt: Say what? Let me see that...
[Reads the coupon]
Burt: I don't see no dog food!
Store Manager: That's what the abbreviation stands for.
Burt: Well, shit! That ain't my problem brother! Can't help it if your cashiers see dog food for chicken!
Store Manager: Look, why don't you come with me and we'll get to the bottom of this situation.
Burt: Come with you? Whatcha mean?
[Pointing to old woman]
Burt: Now this old honky skin, white, snitch-ass mother fucker tells you something and you say "Come with me!" Now you're taking her word over mine! Now that's descrimination. Now why don't you just pull down your pants so we can all see the lilly white paint on your Hatian black ass?
Store Manager: Look, you can come with me now, or I'll get the security.
Burt: Hey, now you're talking bro! I'm gonna report you to your superiors!
Ed: [Sees Fred outside] Aw, Christ...
Fred: [Entering the liquor store] You're a nice guy.
Ed: Hey Fred, early bird gets the worm, hah?
Fred: Ah, you just want my one-eyed wonder worm, Eddy.
Ed: That one-eyed wonder worm has been dead for twenty years.
Fred: Yeah. How's your daughter?
Ed: Eh, you'll never know.
Fred: Place looks cleaner than usual.
Ed: Yeah, I swept it out once.
Fred: Huh. So. What you got for me today?
Ed: Today? Tenafly Viper. One buck.
Fred: Buck - not bad. I thought you Jews usually tried to make more money than that.
Ed: Ah, you fuckin' bastard...
Frank Schnizer: I don't need this. I already got trouble with my kids, my wife, my business, my secretary, the bums... the runaways, the roaches, prickly heat, and a homo dog. This just ain't my day.
Wendy: [her boss collapsed on her, pinning her in a chair] Mr Snizer? Mr Snizer? Hey. Hey! Hey, don't drop dead on me, they'll never find me!
[phone begins to ring, but stops as she reaches for it]
Wendy: Oh God, please don't stop.
Frank Schnizer: If you don't want me to stop, I won't stop.
Wendy: Oh you fuck! You miserable lousy fuck!
Frank Schnizer: How do you know, we ain't even done it yet!