Tank Girl (1995)
Tank Girl: Listen up, cause I'm only telling you this once. I'm not bedtime story lady, so pay attention. It's 2033. The world is *screwed* now. You see, a while ago this humongous comet came crashing into the earth. Bam, total devastation. End of the world as we know it. No celebrities, no cable TV, no water. It hasn't rained in 11 years. Now 20 people gotta squeeze inside the same bathtub - so it ain't all bad.
Tank Girl: You gotta think about it like the first time you got laid. You just gotta say: "Daddy, are you sure this is right?"
Jet Girl: [shy laugh, covering her mouth] You're sick.
Tank Girl: How come you always do that? How come you always cover your mouth when you smile? You got bad teeth or somethin'?
Booga: I was a dog, but because I was really good, they moved me up to human being status.
[Looks down his mutant body]
Booga: Ehh... sort of.
Tank Girl: [has the Madam captive] Now - everybody throw down your guns or I scrape off all her make up!
[considers the Madam's face]
Tank Girl: This might take a really long time.
Donner: Wanna dance?
Jet Girl: I don't know how.
Donner: It's okay, I brought condoms!
Kesslee: Eight, eight, the burning hate. Between Sunday and Monday there lies a day so dark it will devastate.
Tank Girl: Look, if you want to torture me, spank me, lick me, do it. But if this poetry shit continues, shoot me now, please.
Tank Girl: [shakes fists around] Oh I'm so pretty!
[continues shaking fists and begins to dance from foot to foot]
Tank Girl: Oh, I'm gonna hit you so hard, your children will be born bruised!
T-Saint: How much did they pay you to spy on us?
Tank Girl: Two dollars and fifteen cents!
Che'tsai: All the king's horses and all the king's men... wish they had the technology I have.
Jet Girl: You see, this tank isn't... isn't...
Tank Girl: What? Just one little adjective and we'll have a *whole* sentance. Isn't, glad, sad... mad... Lonely...
Jet Girl: Isn't... Operational.
Tank Girl: [seizes Jet by the throat] How do I know you're not lying?
Jet Girl: [choking] Because if, if I was lying, your lungs would be full of cyanide gas.
[Tank releases her]
Tank Girl: Cool! So we get a new tank.
Jet Girl: You take the tank!
[rock music starts]
Tank Girl: Are you sure?
Sgt. Small: What the hell is that?
Trooper Wayne: Sounds like Cole Porter, sir.
Sgt. Small: [points his gun] End it!
Trooper Wayne: Sir!
[looking at a girl on the tv screen in the dressing room]
Tank Girl: I can get you out!
[to Tank Girl and Jet Girl]
Deetee: Okay, we're gonna give you babes a chance to prove yourselves. Call it an initiation.
T-Saint: You fail, you die!
Donner: Yeah, but first, you gotta strip.
Booga: That's not in the plan.
Deetee: The code will be... "on the road." Yeah...
Donner: He's Jack Kerouac incarnate.
Tank Girl: It's... really... hard for me... to play with myself in this thing.
Tank Girl: Who'd you use to be?
T-Saint: A cop.
Tank Girl: Figures.
T-Saint: I say we kill 'em!
Donner: I say we hump 'em.
Booga: I say we eat crumpets and tea.
Deetee: Tasty! Crumpets and tea. All in favor of crumpets and tea, say "Aye."
T-Saint: Shut up! Ain't gonna be no crumpets and tea.
Jet Girl: Now here's the situation. This bird has got no electrical and in about two minutes we're going to be kissing gravel, so listen to me you sperm sucker! Either you get off your butt and clear us for landing or I'm gonna fly this rocket right up your socket!
Sgt. Small: Fuck me!
Jet Girl: How many times do I have to tell you, I don't want to!
Tank Girl: The Rippers are a demonic army of bloodthirsty, human eating, purse snatchin', mutant creatures.
Goon: [mockingly] That cut looks painful.
Tank Girl: I *like* pain.
Goon: What else do you like?
Tank Girl: Hot oil. Vacuum attachments. Yup. Hey, which of you gorgeous guys would like an oil change, hmm?
Kesslee: The pipe. You're gonna really love this one. It goes down 40 meters.
[throws a marble down the pipe]
Kesslee: It gets smaller and smaller the deeper you go.
Tank Girl: Sounds wicked. Can I go first?
Tank Girl: I win.
Kesslee: Yeah, lucky you. Just wait to see what you've won...
T-Saint: Prison, my ass. That's exactly what they want us to think.
Booga: Or better yet, that isn't what they want us to think, that way we'll think what they think we might think, but actually...
T-Saint: Try not to speak.
Booga: I took the bullets out of their guns. That was smart, huh?
Tank Girl: Booga, that was very smart.