Men at Work (1990)
Louis: There are several sacred things in this world that you don't *ever* mess with. One of them happens to be another man's fries. Now, you remember that, and you will live a long and healthy life.
Louis: When I feel like talking to you, I will look at you.
Louis: Aww, lookie here. Looks like somebody threw away a perfectly good white boy!
[looks up to a poster of Jack Berger on a street sign]
Louis: And he sure looks a helluva lot like that dude!
Carl: We're screwed!
James: What do you mean, we? You're the one who pulled the trigger, pal!
Louis: What the hell is goin' on?
James: Uh, Louis, Carl seems to know this guy!
Carl: I don't know him at all!
James: What I'm trying to say is, uh, uh, uh, he shot him!
Carl: With a pellet gun!
James: But he thought he hit him in the butt!
Carl: I did him in the butt! Look Louis, I know that I did not kill this man. Last night, this guy was beatin' on his ol' lady. So I took it upon myself to end the dispute.
Louis: So you shot him?
Carl: With a pellet gun!
Louis: So you said.
[Louis stands the body of Berger up out of the barrel]
Louis: Now you said you hit him from your apartment across the way.
Louis: So how the hell did he end up here?
Carl: Wha, why don't you *ask* him?
James: This is wrong! We should just have gone to the cops and told them what happened!
Carl: Hey listen! You are just as guilty! You were there, that makes you an accomplice!
James: Screw you!
Carl: You are an asshole!
James: And you are a trigger-happy idiot!
Carl: Well, I'm not going to rot in jail alone!
James: Well you're not gonna screw up my life, you son of a bitch!
[James slugs Carl, and both begin to roll on the ground fighting]
[Carl rushes over to break up the fight, dropping Berger's body]
James: You and your stupid pellet gun! Ohhh, waaaaahhh!
James: [offering a slice of pizza to the pizza delivery man] Are you hungry? Would you like some?
Louis: [having a Vietnam flashback] Don't give him any, James.
James: Why not? He might be hungry.
Louis: He's a prisoner; he should be treated accordingly.
James: Have you completely lost your mind? We're not soldiers and he's not the enemy. He's a pizza man.
Louis: Back in Fubai, he would have been killed the second he knocked on that door. I would have snapped his neck like a twig. And he never would have seen it coming, either.
James: Louis, Louis, calm down!
Louis: [pointing the pellet gun at the pizza delivery man] The commie bastard gets no food!
Jeff, Cop: [in a reach-around position on park Merry-go-round after being chained with Mike there by Louis, Carl and James] You will swing for this, James... I SHIT YOU NOT!
Biff: Hold it honey!
[Keeping the gun trained on Carl and Susan, Biff looks over to Mario]
Biff: You listen to me, you Italian son of a bitch, and you listen good! The day you tell me, I don't know shit, and I let you get away with it, is the day *that*
[points to the ocean in the background]
Biff: ocean freezes over!
Mario: That's it, that's it, your history!
[points his tazer at Biff and shoots. Two electrodes land square in Biff's chest, sending thousands of volts of electricity into him]
Biff: Yaaaawwwwwwwwwyyaaaawwwwww, uhhhhhh!
[Biff collapses and passes out from being electrocuted]
[Carl and Susan rush into Mario, knocking him over and run towards Susan's car]
Dog: [Morning rises on Mike and Jeff still in their underwear, Mike still bent over Jeff, handcuffed to the merry-go-round. A dog walks up to the awkard pair and cocks his head]
Mike: Hey, it's not what it looks like. We're respectable peace officers.
Jeff, Cop: See, it's all, one great big, funny mix-up...
Dog: [dog goes over next to the merry-go-round, heists his leg, and pees, which hits Mike and Jeff]
Mike: Ugh! No!
Jeff, Cop: No!
Jeff, Cop: Shoo!
Jeff, Cop: Shoo!
Dog: [the dog trots off]
[Carl and James playing Trivial Pursuit]
Carl: What does a phrenologist feel and interpret?
James: The size of Walt's asshole. A phrenologist feels and interprets the bumps on your head. Skull features.
James: Who was Richard Nixon's chief of staff during the final days of Watergate?
Carl: Oprah Winfrey.
James: What are you doing?
Carl: I hate shitheads who bully their women.
James: So what are you going to do?
Carl: Shoot him.
Carl: It's the principle, James.
James: With a pellet gun? What are you going to accomplish using that stupid thing?
Carl: It allows me to seriously aggravate a situation without actually changing the course of history. It also stings like a bitch.
[Carl prepares to go across the street to spy on Susan]
Louis: Are you sure you know what you're doing?
Carl: C'mon, guys. I'm not gonna get in over my head.
James: Yeah, well that depends on which head you're talking about.
James: This is the last year we throw trash.
Carl: You said that last year.
James: Yeah, but this year I mean it.
Carl: You meant it last year.
James: I want to report a murder and a kidnapping.
Dispatcher: Did they take the body?
James: No, no, I have the body.
Dispatcher: Did you kill the victim, sir?
James: No, I didn't kill him.
Dispatcher: Have you been kidnapped?
James: No, I'm not the one who's been kidnapped. Listen, listen, listen, I know this sounds really strange...
James: What an absolutely gorgeous day. Warm Sun, beautiful women...
Carl: And the air is just right for drinking!
Louis: [to police officer Mike, after pointing the pellet gun at the pizza delivery man's head] Yeah, cop, I know you, man. I know what you're thinking. You're thinking, we've got us another crazy nigger here with a gun. Well, let me tell you something. Human life means very little to me at this point in time. You see, I thrive on misery. In the jungle, misery's all you got. But things are different back here in the world, or so they seem. Nobody wants to talk about pain and suffering. Everybody wants everything to be nice and civil. Well, okay then. Let's be nice; let's be civil. And let's drop those guns before I pull this trigger and change the way you feel about me.
James: Carl spends the evening with a beautiful woman and I'm stuck here with a lunatic and a corpse.
Susan Wilkins, Berger's Campaign Manager: [car explodes] That's my car!
Carl: Looks pretty undriveable... Come on!
Susan Wilkins, Berger's Campaign Manager: Ted! Ted, what the hell is going on?
Carl: Uh, I left out a few things about myself...
Susan Wilkins, Berger's Campaign Manager: I'm waiting, you son of a bitch!
Carl: First of all, it's Carl! So when you yell for me in a panic, yell Carl, OK?
Susan Wilkins, Berger's Campaign Manager: Someting tells me there's more...
Carl: Last night you and Berger had a fight! You walked away, and the next day Berger was dead!
[Carl spots an alleyway and pulls Susan into it]
Susan Wilkins, Berger's Campaign Manager: How the hell do you know about that? Uh!
[Susan hits the wall]
Carl: Look, I saw the two of you...
Susan Wilkins, Berger's Campaign Manager: Wait a minute! Wait a minute! You were spying on me?
Carl: Well, I wouldn't really consider it spying...
Susan Wilkins, Berger's Campaign Manager: [mockingly] Well, what would you really consider it then?
Carl: Let me finish! Lookit, you and Jack had a fight. You ran off, and the next day I found Jack's body in the trash.
Susan Wilkins, Berger's Campaign Manager: Jack's body?
Carl: Somebody killed him, Susan. For a while, I thought it was you.
Susan Wilkins, Berger's Campaign Manager: Wait, Jack cannot be dead, he was at my apartment last night!
Carl: Trust me, Jack is dead!
Susan Wilkins, Berger's Campaign Manager: No no no, wait, Jack came over all upset because of a tape, and he wanted it, and I went to get the right tape...
[Susan reaches into her jacket pocket and finds the tape]
Susan Wilkins, Berger's Campaign Manager: This is it! This is it, this is what the crooks are after! Come on, we have to get this to the police!
Carl: Wha, what the hell was that for?
Susan Wilkins, Berger's Campaign Manager: Fo, for lying to me. I hate liars!
[starts to run again]
Carl: Hates liars?
Susan Wilkins, Berger's Campaign Manager: [Susan runs back to Carl and slaps him again] *THAT's* for spying on me!
[Susan starts to run off again, leaving Carl standing there, confused. Realizing Carl is not running with her, she runs back and grabs his arm. Carl flinches, expecting to be slapped again]
Susan Wilkins, Berger's Campaign Manager: Come on!
James: Eh, Carl?
James: What did you mean when you said I was hopeless?
Carl: I meant exactly... what I said.
James: I still don't understand.
Carl: Well, let's examine the word: hope-less. Less than hopeful. That's what you are.
James: Am I majorly hopeless or partially hopeless?
Carl: I'd say, majorly. Why do you ask?
James: I'll try and change.
Carl: No, you won't.
Louis: They're moving, let's go!
[motioning to Pizza Man]
Louis: Pizza Cong comes with us. Get him on his feet, I'll get Tricky Dick.
Biff: [Biff is slowly coming to after Mario blasted him with a taser gun] Ooohhhh... what happened?
Mario: Man, it was something. You got struck by lightning.
Mario: Freak storm.
Jack Berger: I can't support this activity any longer, Max.
Radio Announcer: Well, I think you should definitely dump the dude!
James: Hey Carl!
James: I think I have a problem over here!
Carl: Hold on, let me think of something.
Carl: Hey James! I didn't think of anything yet.
Frost: [after damaging the brakes] I would pay... a million pesos... to see the looks on their faces when they try to stop this thing.
Carl: You're a stupid little man, you're a stupid little man!
Louis: Hey! Now that's enough
[Carl seperates them, but James still wants to fight, so James tries to kick Carl]
Louis: Hey YO! I said knock it off! Now unless either one of you guys had a rope or a piece of wire and strangled this guy, I'd say you're both in the clear!
James: How the hell would you know?
Louis: [hauls up the body to a standing position] Look. See? You can see the marks whatever was used made around his neck. Pretty nasty job, too.
Luzinski: [Luzinski opens his locker and a large white airbag inflates] Hey buttheads! How about some originality? Yaaaahhhh!
[the bag explodes, smearing a brown sticky substance all over Frost and Luzinski]
Frost: This means war, man!
Luzinski: Hey, this is Shit! IT'S SHIT! Get it offa me man, get it off!
Pizza Man: [Louis is counting out the money to the pizza guy, who looks up and sees James wheeling Berger's body with a Nixon mask over his face to the bathroom. James spots the pizza guy looking, and moves faster] Uh, what's going on here?
Louis: Mind your business son.
Pizza Man: OK. Thank you sir!
Louis: You seen too much!
[Lewis grabs the pizza guy, pulling him into the apartment and starts spinning him around in a headlock]
Pizza Man: Ahhhhhhhh! Yaahhhhhhhh! Ahhhhhhhhhh!
James: Louis! What the hell are you doing?
Louis: He saw you with the body! He can start all kinds of trouble!
James: So you kidnap him? Good solution!
Pizza Man: [flailing] Here, take the money! I won't say anything to anybody!
Louis: You bet you won't!
[Louis swings him around one more time and puts him headfirst into the sheetrock wall]
Pizza Man: Waaaaaahhhh!
[Pizza guy's head slams into and puts a hole in the wall]
James: [grabs his head] Louis, what the hell?
Pizza Man: [Louis pulls the pizza guy's head out of the wall, holding him up] Aiiiiii, extra cheese?
[Pizza guy falls over, unconscious, tweeting birds are heard]
James: You're a madman!
Louis: [grits his teeth] He was provoking me!
James: This situation has definitely gotten way out of hand!
Louis: Go back to the window and keep Carl covered!
James: What the hell are we gonna do with him?
Louis: [grits his teeth again and grins] We gonna need some rope!
James: Come on, let's do the nasty.
Carl: Do we have to?
James: Ugh, So Naaaaassstttyyy!
James: [Carl tiptoes across the parking lot to spy on Susan. James watches him from their apartment with binoculars] What is he doing?
Carl: [mid-step, stops and looks up] What am I doing?
Carl: [Carl cautiously approaches Susan's door. Susan' opens it, to put the garbage. Carl turns to run, trips over his feet and twists his ankle] Ahhhhhh! Owww!
Susan Wilkins, Berger's Campaign Manager: Ahhhhhhhhh!
Carl: Don't kill me!
Carl: What? Sorry. I'm fairly new to the building.
Susan Wilkins, Berger's Campaign Manager: That's funny, I haven't seen you around in the building before...
Carl: Oh, I've been here in the building, for a long time I've been here... in... the building. I'm just new to this... floor. I'm a, uh... fra, franologist.
Susan Wilkins, Berger's Campaign Manager: What exactly does a franologist do?
Carl: Well, I feel and interpret the size of Walt's asshol...
[he catches himself]
Carl: ... Skull features. I study contours and, and skull features.
Carl: Oh, wow.
[staggers to his feet, his ankle beginning to swell]
Carl: . Not to impose, but if we could go inside, get some ice for this ankle, that'd be great.
Carl: In, your apartment.
Susan Wilkins, Berger's Campaign Manager: What's wrong with yours?
Carl: Oh no, no, my ice machine is... broken, and it's such a long way... Are you really going to refuse a man who is in, dire need of... of medical attention?
Susan Wilkins, Berger's Campaign Manager: [smiles coyly] . No. But I didn't catch your name.
Carl: Oh, I'm Ted Blansky. The 3rd.
Susan Wilkins, Berger's Campaign Manager: Susan Wilkins. The 1st.
James: [James, Berger's body, Pizza Man and Louis sit in James's truck watching Potterdam's men dumping the toxic waste barrels. He pulls back the recoiler on the rifle and empties out one pellet] Well, a lotta good this will do us.
Pizza Man: A pellet gun? You've been holding me hostage all night with an *air rifle*?
James: Shut up.
Pizza Man: This is too much.
Carl: [Carl is kneading Susan's head, pretending to be a franalogist and read her contours] Wow. That is deep. That is very, very deep.
[Susan is enjoying the head massage]
Carl: And that one.
Carl: So is that one.
Carl: You were born Cesearian, no?
Carl: Well, it's not an exact science.
Susan Wilkins, Berger's Campaign Manager: Apparently not.
[she closes her eyes, continuing to enjoy the massage]
Carl: [looks around, while still massaging her head] Mangos, you, you love Mangos.
Susan Wilkins, Berger's Campaign Manager: [eyes closed, smiling] How did you know that?
Carl: Well, it's, all here in the contours!
[She opens her eyes and sits up]
Susan Wilkins, Berger's Campaign Manager: Hmm. So, that's franology.
[she takes a sip of wine]
Carl: It's interesting, no?
Susan Wilkins, Berger's Campaign Manager: No. Weird. You know what? Let's take this off...
[she takes off Carl's ice wrap around his ankle]
Susan Wilkins, Berger's Campaign Manager: and let's, do something.
Carl: We are doing something.
Susan Wilkins, Berger's Campaign Manager: No, let's go do something.
Carl: Like what?
Susan Wilkins, Berger's Campaign Manager: I don't know. But, it'll be fun!
Carl: But, my ankle...
Susan Wilkins, Berger's Campaign Manager: [mock whining] Ohh, your ankle! Come on!
[helps Carl to his feet]
Susan Wilkins, Berger's Campaign Manager: . Oh, let me get my keys.
Carl: [grabs the trash bag by the door and begins to look through it]
Susan Wilkins, Berger's Campaign Manager: [returns, sees him holding the trash bag] Do you always look through people's trash?
Carl: Well, sometimes it's the best way to get to know them.
[puts the trash bag back on the floor]
Biff: [Sits in the car with Mario, watching Susan's apartment. Car phone rings] Hello?
Maxwell Potterdam III: First, you lose the body. And then you bring me, the wrong tape. Now I know, that you two haven't personally set out to DESTROY MY COMPANY! But I sent you out to do a simple task, and simply put, you screwed up.
Mario: [Biff is listening to Potterdam, Mario has made a origami bird and is making sounds] Caw! Caw!
Maxwell Potterdam III: Now, apparently, Berger, had a relationship with his campaign manager, a Miss Susan Wilkins.
[Potterdam gives the address]
Biff: That's where we iced Berger, Chief! I know where that is!
Maxwell Potterdam III: Well, did it ever occur to you two idiots that, SHE MIGHT HAVE THE CASSETTE?
Biff: I think he wants us to kill some more people.
[puts a lollipop in his mouth]
Maxwell Potterdam III: A tape? A Goddamned tape! Shrewd move, Berger!
[picks up the phone]
Maxwell Potterdam III: What do you mean, you lost the body?
Biff: We don't know, Chief. We looked everywhere. We had it in one of the barrels tied to the back of the trunk, and...
Maxwell Potterdam III: And?
Biff: It must have... rolled off the back of the car.
Maxwell Potterdam III: Well! FIND IT! Find it, find it, find it! Your very lives depend upon it, gentleman!
Mario: We did get this, though, Chief.
[hands the tape taken out of Berger's pocket to Potterdam]
Maxwell Potterdam III: Well! Thank God! You're excused.
Louis: Faster James! We're losing them!
James: I got it to the floor, Lewis!
Mike: [James gets pulled over. The cop gets out of his car, turns on his flashlight and walks towards the driver's side of the truck] Well, well! Lookie what we got!
[looks to Jeff standing at the back of the truck]
James: I am in no mood for this Mike! Just go ahead snd write the damn ticket so we can all move on with our lives!
Mike: Well, that might be such an easy thing to do there, Jimbo. See, you were doing 75 in a 35. And you ran a red light. That's wreckless driving as far as I'm concerned!
[shines the flashlight in the cab]
Mike: Who else you got with ya there, Jimbo?
[sees the gagged pizza man]
Mike: What the hell is going on here?
James: Heh, heh, heh... you're, you're never gonna believe this Mike! Heh, heh heh... I'm totally flattered, I can't even come up with a good lie!
Mike: Heh heh heh! What'd I tell you, James? I knew you were crooked! And I knew I'd catch up to you sooner or later!
[draws his gun]
Mike: All right, everyone of the vehicle right now!