The Ref (1994)
Lloyd: You know what I'm going to get you next Christmas, Mom? A big wooden cross, so that every time you feel unappreciated for your sacrifices, you can climb on up and nail yourself to it.
Gus: You know what, lady? I'd like to tie you to the back of a fucking truck.
Rose: You don't have the balls.
[Gus leaps up from his chair toward Rose and is intercepted by Lloyd]
Lloyd: Don't do it! It's not worth it.
Gus: I fucking hate her, Lloyd!
Lloyd: I know, I know.
Gus: What is the matter with you? I thought Mothers were sweet and nice a-a-and Patient. I know loan sharks who are more forgiving than you. Your husband ain't dead, lady. He's hiding.
Lloyd: She's my mother.
Gus: She's a fucking Bitch, Lloyd.
Lloyd: You're not supposed to take sides.
Caroline: No, no, no, thank you so much Gus. Finally somebody else sees.
Gus: You'd have to be blind not to see.
Rose: You're a "Wong"?
Gus: Well, my mother was Irish.
Rose: And your father?
[Gus is impersonating Dr. Wong]
Connie Chasseur: Who would catch a criminal, and then let him go free?
Mary Chasseur: Republicans?
[Gus on the phone with a bartender]
Gus: Is there a Murray there.
Bartender: [to the patrons] Is there a Murray here?
[Into the phone]
Bartender: I don't think he's here, pal.
Gus: See if there's a waste of fucking life named Murray, try that.
Bartender: [to the patrons] Is there a fucking waste of life named Murray here?
Murray: Gussy? Yeah that's me.
Gus: From now on, the only person who gets to yell is me. Why? Because I have a gun. People with guns get to do whatever they want. Married people without guns - for instance - you - DO NOT get to yell. Why? NO GUNS! No guns, no yelling. See? Simple little equation.
Lloyd: You know, you and my wife have a lot in common. You both think you have some right to life working out the way you want it to, and when it doesn't, you get to act the way you want. The only trouble with that is someone has to be responsible. I'd love to run around and take classes and play with my inner-self! I'd love the freedom to be some pissed-off criminal with no responsibilities, except I don't have the time! But you don't see me with a gun. And you don't see me sleeping with someone else. You think my life turned out the way I wanted because I live in this house? You think every morning I wake up, look in the mirror and say "Gee I'm glad I'm me and not some 19-year-old billionaire rockstar with the body of an athelete and a 24-hour erection!" No I don't! So just excuse the shit out of me!
Lloyd: I suppose you'll use this drama as a reason to have another affair. I feel sorry for the next delivery man that comes to this house!
Gus: Look kid... what I do, running around, stealing stuff, may sound great when you're fourteen years old, but it sucks just a little bit when you're thirty-five. No house. No family. I got a partner who's fifty... he still can't understand why they took "Happy Days" off the air.
Gus: Soooo... got any cigarettes?
Lloyd: I don't smoke and Caroline just quit.
Gus: Really? Just quit, huh?
Caroline: [she nods her head yes]
Gus: So... where are they?
Caroline: What do you mean?
Gus: Where aaare they, Caroliiiiine?
Caroline: [sighs] They're behind the chessboard.
Lloyd: What? You lied to me! You said you were finished!
Caroline: I said I hadn't finished a cigarette. I take a couple drags, I don't inhale.
Lloyd: Oh you are such a liar!
Caroline: I am not, I said...
Gus: [Gus is sick of the argument and pushes both of them over in thier chairs] Did you say that you would quit, Caroline? DID YOU SAY... that you would quit?
Caroline: [shaking her head yes]
Gus: YES! So that means that YOU are a liar, end of story.
Lloyd: [chuckles thinking he's won, but Gus looks over and comes towards him]
Gus: [putting the gun to his head] You saw the stop sign didn't you, Lloyd?
[waving the gun back and forth]
Gus: You... saw the... stop sign... DIDN'T YOU?
Lloyd: Y-yes, I did.
Gus: YES! So that means that you, too, are a liar! Capital "L", small "i", small "a", small "r", period. Now shut... the fuck... up!
Lloyd: [to the therapist referring to their son] In the ninth grade we said he could get a part time job. Are you ready for what he did? He started an escort service for the football team, and he gave out my mother's phone number!
Caroline: And I still say getting laid by an 18-year-old linebacker is just what she needs!
Gus: [with a gun to Rose's head] All right. Everybody into the den, or I'll shoot her.
Connie Chasseur: Go ahead. Shoot her.
Gus: Shut up! Get in the den!
Lloyd: So, do you think we should go untie everybody?
Caroline: No. I think we should unwrap them in the morning. It'll be more festive.
Lloyd: Is it possible for you to shut the fuck up for five minutes?
Caroline: How can we both be in the marriage and I'm miserable and you're content?
Caroline: I had this dream...
Lloyd: Do we have to do dreams?
Caroline: I'm in this restaurant, and the waiter brings me my entree. It was a salad. It was Lloyd's head on a plate of spinach with his penis sticking out of his ear. And I said, "I didn't order this." And the waiter said, "Oh you must try it, it's a delicacy. But don't eat the penis, it's just garnish."
Dr. Wong: Lloyd, what do you think about the dream?
Lloyd: I think she should stop telling it at dinner parties to all our friends.
Lloyd: Caroline, the day you see anything through to the end, I'll stick my own dick in my ear.
John Chasseur: Mom, the TV's broken. What are we gonna do all night?
Connie Chasseur: Celebrate the birth of Christ!
[Lloyd, after being interrupted by his family, is whalloping the Christmas tree with a fireplace poker]
Lloyd: Excuse me! Excuse me! EXCUSE ME! EXCUSE ME!
[stunned silence by all]
Lloyd: If you don't mind, the "corpse" *STILL* has the floor!
Gus: Sit down, Connie.
Connie Chasseur: Excuse me, but I am not one of your patients.
Gus: You're gonna be somebody's patient if you don't get your ass back down in that chair.
John Chasseur: Wow!
Gus: I swear to God, you hit that kid one more time and I will stik that pig's head right up your ass!
Connie Chasseur: Gary, are you gonna let him talk to me like that?
Gary Chasseur: Well, he is a doctor.
Caroline: You're the one who suffocated him with limitations. Our son's a very sensative, creative...
Lloyd: Juvenile delinquent.
Caroline: ...boy. He has the kind of imagination...
Lloyd: That the mafia gives scholarships for.
Caroline: He sounded upset.
Gus: He should be. He's going to die a horrible fucking death.
Lloyd: What's your name?
Gus: Fuck you, that's my name.
Murray: When are we gonna open presents?
Gus: Presents? Is that what you said? Presents? We'll open them when we get there. No, in fact, I'll save you the trouble. Your present is a giant fucking canon. And you're gonna crawl in it. Then I'm gonna get 2 pounds of gunpowder and I'm gonna shoot you right out of Jersey! And then I'm gonna drive to Jersey, and pick up all the parts of your body and put them in a plastic bag. Then I'm gonna drive to my house with you in the bag and toss you into the fireplace. I'm gonna get my glass of whiskey and watch the Charlie Brown special with your ashes burning IN MY FUCKING HOUSE! AGH!
Murray: What's that smell?
Gus: Shut up.
Caroline: We had our own restaurant once. An Italian restaurant. Of course, I would have preferred French, but...
Gus: What are we, girlfriends? Do I give a shit about this? No.
Murray: [On the phone] How do I know this is Gussy?
Gus: Because the next time I see you I'm gonna tear all the hair outta your balls ONE BY ONE, you fuckin' mule! How about that?
George: Yeah? Well, maybe Santa won't come back next year. Maybe he and the Easter Bunny will take a fuckin' cruise to Jamaica and you can eat your own lousy cookies!
Gus: [noticing John has wrapped half a roll of tape around Connie's mouth] Hey kid, that's enough.
John Chasseur: Are you sure this will hold?
Dr. Wong: Please let's lower our voices.
Gus: [Trying unsuccessfully to get the family to be quiet] Should I just shoot one of you in the foot, would that get the point across?
Caroline: Did you know you're bleeding?
Gus: Oh, yeah.
Lloyd: Were you shot?
Gus: Dog bit me
Caroline: What dog?
Gus: Willard's dog.
Caroline: Cannibal bit you?
Gus: His name is Cannibal?
Gus: [Murray hangs the phone up just as Gus answers] He hung up.
Caroline: Well, he sounded upset.
Gus: He should be. He's going to die a horrible fucking death.
Connie Chasseur: [from downstairs, in a whiny tone] Caroline...
Caroline: Speaking of which.
Rose Chasseur: Gary, get me my bags!
Connie Chasseur: Oh, get them yourself! He's not your errand-boy!
Rose Chasseur: Has everyone gone nuts? Who the hell do you think you are?
Connie Chasseur: Slipper socks! Medium!
[Lt. Huff smells a mask]
Lt. Huff: It's urine.
Lt. Steve Milford: Oh thank God. Phil thought it might be semen.
Lt. Huff: Phil needs to talk to a therapist.
Rose: Sounds too sweet!
Caroline: Then don't eat it!
[Throws pie down on the table]
Lloyd: Caroline? Why don't you eat something?
Caroline: [Drunk] Loyd? Why don't you eat me?
Connie Chasseur: Kids, go to into the den. This not a conversation for children.
Rose Chasseur: It is not an apprioprate conversation for adults either.
Gus: Where are you going?
Rose Chasseur: To the living room. To leave you to your quilting. I be there to open presents. If my plans change I will contact you.
Lloyd: Why don't we all go into the living room, we'll have our drink and deserts in there.
Caroline: [to Loyd] Phoney Bastard!
Gus: Caroline, shut up.
Connie Chasseur: Let's all go to the den...
Gus: Sit down Connie sit.
Connie Chasseur: Excuse me, I am not one of you patients.
Gus: You're going to be somebody's patient if you don't get your ass back down in that chair.
Gus: Caroline and Loyd, will get the coffee and deserts then we'll be opening presents.
Connie Chasseur: We can't open presents til midnight.
Gus: Why not?
Connie Chasseur: Because it's not Christmas until midnight!
Gus: We'll be changing the rules, a little bit. We are opening the presents now. Not later, now. Why? We're adults, and we can open our presents, WHENEVER WE WANT!
Lloyd: Coffee, Mom?
Rose Chasseur: Is it real coffee? Or some Scandinavian Christmas potion?
Boy: Santa doesn't drink champagne. Santa only drinks milk.
George: [quietly] Listen. Santa can't drink no more milk. Santa has a lactose intolerance, and it gives him horrible gas pains. Do you want to see Santa farting down everybody's chimney?
Gus: [into phone] Murray! How are ya, pal?
Murray: I'm fine Gussie. How are you?
Gus: Oh, just a little tired after running for ten hundred
Gus: fuckin' miles because there was no fuckin' car waiting for me!
[beats the phone against the counter numerous times, then back into phone]
Gus: What did I tell you? I told you to act like a drunk vagrant imbecile! Is that too much of a *fuckin'* stretch?
Connie Chasseur: I'm sorry but I have had it! I have never heard of such a Christmas! Sex... and drugs... an-an-and women being set on fire!
Connie Chasseur: The spirit of Christmas is either you're good or you're punished and you burn in hell.