Tank Girl:
This comet came crashing into the earth. BAM! Total devastation. No celebrities, no cable TV, *no water*! It hasn't rained in 11 years. Now, 20 people gotta squeeze into the same bathtub. So it ain't all bad.
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.
Tank Girl:
Ladies, lock up your sons!
Donner:
Wanna dance?
Jet Girl:
I don't know how.
Donner:
It's okay, I brought the condoms!
Tank Girl:
Look, it's been swell, but the swelling's gone down.
Kesslee:
Eight, Eight, the burning eight. 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:
You gotta think about it like the first time you got laid. You gotta go: "Daddy, are you sure this is right?"
Tank Girl:
I'm gonna hit you so hard, your children will be born bruised!
Tank Girl:
I'm too young for this shit!
T-Saint:
How much did they pay you to spy on us?
Tank Girl:
Two dollars and fifteen cents!
Tank Girl:
Feeling a little inadequate?
Che'tsai:
All the king's horses and all the king's men... wish they had the technology I have.
Sub Girl:
Reach for the sky gods!
Jet Girl:
You see, this tank isn't... isn't...
Tank Girl:
What?
Jet Girl:
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!
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!
Tank Girl:
I have two words for you. Brush your teeth!
[
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, T-Saint, Donner:
Why not?
Deetee:
The code will be... ”on the road." Yeah...
Donner:
He's Jack Kerouac incarnate.
[
to old-ish man]
Tank Girl:
You are so pretty it makes me sick.
Tank Girl:
To the Bat Tank!
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
Jet Girl:
This tank, i-i-i-it isn't
Tank Girl:
Isn't... isn't...
Jet Girl:
isn't...
Tank Girl:
WHAT? Come on just one little adjective and we'll have a whole sentence here. The Tank isn't glad. Sad. Mad. Lonely.
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 "I."
Rippers:
I!
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!
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