Happy Gilmore (1996)
Nursing Home Orderly: Good news, everybody, we're extending arts and crafts time by four hours today.
Elderly Woman: My fingers hurt.
Nursing Home Orderly: What's that?
Elderly Woman: My fingers hurt.
Nursing Home Orderly: Oh, well, now your back's gonna hurt, 'cause you just pulled landscaping duty. Anybody else's fingers hurt?... I didn't think so.
Shooter McGavin: You're in big trouble though, pal. I eat pieces of shit like you for breakfast!
Happy Gilmore: [laughing] You eat pieces of shit for breakfast?
Shooter McGavin: [long pause] No!
Happy Gilmore: [after punching Bob Barker to the ground] You like THAT old man? You want a piece of ME?
Bob Barker: [shakes his head as he get up from the ground] I don't want a PIECE of you... I want the whole THING!
[Bob punches Happy in the stomach once then punches him in the face ten times. His tenth blow causes happy to fall into a small pond]
Happy Gilmore: [to his golf ball] You little son of a bitch ball! Why you don't you just go HOME? That's your HOME! Are you too good for your HOME? ANSWER ME! SUCK MY WHITE ASS, BALL!
Gary Potter: Harness in the good energy, block out the bad. Harness. Energy. Block. Bad. It's like a carousel. You put the quarter in, you get on the horse, it goes up and down, and around. Circular, circle. Feel it. Go with the flow.
Happy Gilmore: Psycho.
Shooter McGavin: Just stay out of my way... or you'll pay! LISTEN to what I say!
Happy Gilmore: Hey, why don't I just go eat some hay, make things out of clay, lay by the bay? I just may! What'd ya say?
Virginia: What's this I hear about you breaking a rake and throwing it in the woods?
Happy Gilmore: What? I didn't *break* it, I was just testing its durability, and then I *placed* it in the woods because it's made of wood and I just thought he should be with his family.
Happy Gilmore: [voice over narration] During high school, I played junior hockey and still hold two league records: most time spent in the penalty box; and I was the only guy to ever take off his skate and try to stab somebody.
Grandma: How's that nice girlfriend of yours?
Happy Gilmore: Oh, she got hit by a car. She's dead.
Happy Gilmore: [to the clown hole at the mini-golf course after it spits out his ball] You're gonna die, clown!
[breaks its nose off with his golf club]
Doctor: Well, You're a little banged up but no serious injury's. Just keep off your feet for a few days.
Happy Gilmore: To Hell with that, I gotta finish up.
Doctor: Fine! Do whatever you like. What would I know, I'm just a Doctor.
Happy Gilmore: That's my puck, baby, don't you ever touch my puck.
Grandma: Sir, can I trouble you for a glass of warm milk? It helps me go to sleep.
Nursing Home Orderly: You can trouble me for a warm glass of shut-the-hell-up! Now, you will go to sleep! Or I will PUT you to sleep. Check out the name tag. You're in MY world now, grandma!
Happy Gilmore: [to Virginia] Hey, my girlfriend is dead, you know. She fell off a cliff and died on impact.
Terry: All you ever talk about is becoming a pro hockey player, but there's a problem: you're not any good.
Happy Gilmore: I am good. You know what, you're a lousy kindergarten teacher. I've seen those finger-paintings you bring home and they SUCK.
Happy Gilmore: [to Shooter] Happy learned how to putt! Uh-oh!
[Shooter McGavin has just hit the ball on Mr. Larson's foot]
Mr. Larson: That's two thus far, Shooter.
Shooter McGavin: Oh, you can count. Good for you.
Mr. Larson: And *you* can count, on *me*, waiting for *you* in the parking lot.
Happy Gilmore: [to Chubbs] I'm stupid. You're smart. I was wrong. You were right. You're the best. I'm the worst. You're very good-looking. I'm not attractive.
[to Bob Barker after Donald insults Happy]
Happy Gilmore: I'd love to punch that guy in the face right now. But I can't, you know, because I'd get in trouble. I bet you get a lot of that on "Let's Make A Deal."
Bob Barker: It's "The Price Is Right," Happy.
Happy Gilmore: [grimaces in embarrassment] Oh, yeah. Sorry.
Bob Barker: It happens. Let's play some golf.
Happy Gilmore: Okay.
Happy Gilmore: [to Shooter after hitting a longer drive] Somebody's closer!
Virginia: I thought we were going to be just friends.
Happy Gilmore: What? Friends listen to "Endless Love" in the dark.
[Happy sinks an amazing putt]
Happy Gilmore: [to Shooter] Did that go in? I wasn't watching, did it go in? I didn't see it, could you tell me if it went in?
Happy Gilmore: [to Shooter] It ain't over, McGavin. The way I see it... we've only just begun.
Mr. Larson: Trying to reach the green from here, Shooter?
Shooter McGavin: I'm afraid that's impossible, sir.
Mr. Larson: I beg to differ. Happy Gilmore accomplished that feat no more than an hour ago.
Shooter McGavin: Well, moron...
[turns to see Mr. Larson for the first time]
Shooter McGavin: good for Happy Gilm-OH MY GOD!
Announcer: What a shot by Happy Gilmore!
[turns to his partner]
Announcer: Who the hell is Happy Gilmore?
[the audience is getting wild]
Shooter McGavin: Damn you people. Go back to your shanties.
Chubbs: Back in 1965, Sports Illustrated said I was going to be the next Arnold Palmer.
Happy Gilmore: Yeah? What happened?
Chubbs: They wouldn't let me play on the Pro Tour anymore.
Happy Gilmore: Ah, I'm sorry. Because you're black?
Chubbs: Hell no! Damned alligator BIT my hand off!
[Shows Happy his wooden hand]
Happy Gilmore: OH MY GOD!
Chubbs: Yeah. tournament down in Florida. I hooked my ball in the rough down by the lake. Damned alligator just POPPED up, cut me down on my prime. He got me, but I tore one of that bastard's eyes out though. Look at that.
[Shows Happy a small glass jar with an eyeball in it]
Happy Gilmore: You're pretty sick, Chubbs.
Chubbs: It's all in the hips. It's all in the hips. It's all in the hips. It's all in the hips.
Happy Gilmore: Get off of me!
Chubbs: Just easin' the tension, baby. Just easin' the tension!
Happy Gilmore: Yeah, well ease it on someone else.
Crazy Old Lady: Mister! Mister! Get me outta here!
Happy Gilmore: Here, eat that and leave us alone!
Happy Gilmore: Where are you going with those clubs, punk?
[pushes young caddy to the ground]
Happy's Waterbury Caddy: Mr. Gilmore, I'm your caddy!
Happy Gilmore: Oh, I'm sorry about that. Let me carry these, alright, they were my grandfather's, they're pretty old.
Happy's Waterbury Caddy: Well, what should I do then?
Happy Gilmore: I don't know. Why don't you just watch me, and make sure I don't do anything stupid. Okay?
Starter #1: Mr. Gilmore, Mr. Lafferty will be teeing off now.
Happy Gilmore: Alright, good luck, buddy.
Happy's Waterbury Caddy: Get out the way.
Happy Gilmore: [to caddy] Where were you on that one, dipshit?
Shooter McGavin: [to Happy] Stop fraternizing with the help Gilmore. Just hit your ball... if you can find it.
Virginia: What the hell is going on here
Happy Gilmore: Erm... I was just looking for the other half of this bottle. Oh. There's some... and some more.
[the press is interviewing Shooter McGavin]
Shooter McGavin: I tell you, the real winner today is the city of Portland. Every time I come here it gets hard to leave. I bet you put something to the water.
[Shooter McGavin is holding a speech for other golf players]
Shooter McGavin: Thank you, Doug. You know, I saw Doug playing yesterday. And I've got to tell you, this guy spends more time in the sand than David Hasselhoff!
Announcer: We haven't seen Happy Gilmore play this badly since his first day on tour. He and Bob Barker are now dead last.
Bob Barker: I can't believe you're a professional golfer. I think you should be working at the snack bar.
Happy Gilmore: You better relax, Bob.
Bob Barker: There is no way that you could have been as bad at hockey as you are at golf.
Happy Gilmore: All right, let's go.
[Happy punches Bob in the face. Bob grunts as he stumbles to the ground]
Virginia: [stopping Happy from fighting Shooter] Hey, Hey, Hey, Hey! You want to beat him? Beat him on the course.
Happy Gilmore: That's right, I'm gonna beat your ass on the course!
Shooter McGavin: Yeah, right. And Grizzly Adams had a beard.
Lee Trevino: Grizzly Adams *did* have a beard.
Donald: [to Happy] You're gonna need a blanket and suntan lotion, cause you're never gonna get off that beach, just like the way you never got into the NHL... you jackass!
Happy Gilmore: [after missing a slap shot by far] Dammit! Is that goal regulation size or what? Sheesh!
Donald: [to Shooter on the phone] Shooter! Great to hear from you! You wanna go to the Sizzler and get some grub?
[after Happy finally sinks his putt after 7 tries]
Guy on Green: It's about time!
Happy Gilmore: Yeah it is about time. I mean I just couldn't get the ball in the hole. I *wanted* to but I just couldn't do it.
[Happy pulls the guy's shirt over his head and then punches him in the face]
Happy Gilmore: That guy's driving me crazy.
Bob Barker: You know what's driving me crazy? You not getting the ball in the hole!
Happy Gilmore: Don't push me, Bob. Now's not the time!
Coach: Number 18, is that Gilmore again? How many times has this guy tried out, anyway?
Assistant Coach: At least ten times. Guy's got alot of intensity.
Coach: Not a real strong skater, though.
Assistant Coach: Ain't the best puck handler, either.
Coach: Yeah, but my god...
[Happy fires a shot, and it shatters the glass in front of the coaches]
Assistant Coach: What a shot.
Happy Gilmore: [to himself] Oh, God, that hurt a little, but I'm alright.
Happy Gilmore: But she's an old lady. I mean, look at her. She's old. You can't just take her stuff. She's too old.
IRS Agent: I'm sorry, I have no discretion. Her stuff is now our stuff.
Shooter McGavin: Everyone seems to be coming around... Well I'm not Doug!
Chubbs: What are you doing?
Happy Gilmore: 364 days until next year's hockey tryouts, I have to toughen up.
Happy Gilmore: Looks like a slight hill. Whaddya think?
Otto: And a slant to the left.
Happy Gilmore: Nah, it looks that way cause you've only got one shoe on.
Happy Gilmore: I'll make you a bet.
Virginia: Do you always carry a puck with you?
Happy Gilmore: Yeah. Alright, now, if you get that puck in that net over there, I'll never bother you again. But if you miss, you got to give me a big fat kiss. And you have to pretend you like it too.
Happy Gilmore: Good luck.
[Virginia shoots puck and scores]
Happy Gilmore: Holy shit. Talk about your all time backfires.
Happy Gilmore: [a limo passes by] Whoa, must be Burt Reynolds or somethin'.
[in slow motion, Happy hits a ball a great distance. Soon after, the ball bounces on a green and rolls into a hole. The crowd goes wild]
Happy Gilmore: [shouts] He shoots, he scores!
[Happy turns to Chubbs]
Happy Gilmore: Oh, man. That was so much easier than putting. I should just try to get the ball in one shot every time.
Chubbs: Good plan.
[Chubbs chuckles as he pats Happy with his wooden hand. The two of them walk away]
Virginia: [to Shooter] Did you see that?
Shooter McGavin: Yes. Nice shot.
Virginia: He just got a Hole-in-One on a *par four*!
Shooter McGavin: I know. I just said I saw it.
Virginia: [laughs] Oh, I hope he *wins*. He's a publicist's *dream*. I mean, a guy who could drive the ball *that* far - oh, he could *really* draw a crowd.
[Virginia walks away smiling]
Shooter McGavin: [under his breath] You know what *else* could draw a crowd? A golfer with an arm growing out of his ass.
[Shooter follows Virginia scowling]
Announcer: Quite a large and economically diverse crowd here at the Michelob Invitational. I guess it's the new tour sensation Happy Gilmore who's attracting all sorts of people to this beautiful course.
Happy Gilmore: I got into this tournament for one reason: money. And now I have a new reason: kicking your ass!
Shooter McGavin: Well, I'd like to see you try.
Happy Gilmore: [Picks up beer bottle and smashes it in half] Let's do it, then!
Shooter McGavin: I meant on a golf course!
Virginia: Hey! What's going on here, huh?
Happy Gilmore: Oh, uh, I was just looking for the other half of this bottle and there's some of it and there's some of it right there, too.
Virginia: Why don't you just put it down?
Happy Gilmore: Yeah, I know.
Shooter McGavin: [to the spectators] Damn you people. This is golf. Not a rock concert.
Chubbs: Golf's no different from Hockey. It requires talent and self discipline.
Happy Gilmore: Golf requires goofy pants and a fat ass. You should talk to my neighbor, the accountant. Probably a great golfer... huge ass.
Chubbs: Hey, I'll bet your neighbor the accountant can't drive the ball four hundred yards. I'll bet your neighbor the accountant doesn't have a shot to get on the Pro Tour!
Happy Gilmore: And how would I do that?
Chubbs: You win the Open tomorrow, and you're automatically on the Pro Tour. Then who knows? Maybe you'll win the Tour Championship one day. Get that gold jacket that I never got.
Happy Gilmore: Gold jacket, green jacket, who gives a shit?
[Shooter has just purchased Happy's Grandmothers house]
Happy Gilmore: What the hell is the matter with you?
Shooter McGavin: Well, Real Estate is a hobby of mine...
[Happy goes to hit McGavin]
Shooter McGavin: Ah ah. You lay another finger on me, I burn the house down and piss on the ashes.
[Happy Gilmore cheers and uses a golf club to do bull dance]
Gary Potter: [to his caddy] Doin' the Bull Dance. Feelin' the flow. Workin' it. Workin' it.
[an alligator eats Happy's ball]
Happy Gilmore: That Son of a Bitch. Give me my ball, come on, pop it up, you dirty bastard. I swear I'm gonna... give the ball, alligator. Hey, you've got one eye, Chubbs. You took his hand.
Donald: Hey Gilmore, you suck ya jackass.
Happy Gilmore: Why don't you shut the hell up.
[Shooter has just stolen the jacket]
Mr. Larson: I believe that's Mr. Gilmore's.
Mover: I'll tell you what, you hit a ball past my ball, and we'll go straight back to work so you can watch your precious hockey game.
Happy Gilmore: Give me the stupid club.
[approaches the ball on the tee]
Happy Gilmore: [judging the club] Look at this stupid thing.
Mover: This is going to be hilarious. I mean, look how he's standing.
Happy Gilmore: [sarcastically] Yeah you like that?
[Happy hits the ball, hits the window to the house at the end of the street]
Mover: Holy shit.
Happy Gilmore: Go back to work.
Mover: That house is like four hundred yards away.
Happy Gilmore: Is that good?
Mover: That's unbelieveable.
Mover: Beginner's luck. Twenty bucks says you can't do it again.
Happy Gilmore: Bring it on.
[Happy hits the ball in the same direction]
Distant neighbor: You boys are going to pay for that. Ow.
Mover: You hit that guy.
Happy Gilmore: He shouldn't have been standing there.
Mover: One more time, double or nothing.
Happy Gilmore: You better pay up.
[Happy hits the ball, ball hits a woman on the roof of the same house, falls off]
Happy Gilmore: Oops. All right, maybe we should get back inside.
[Happy Gilmore appears at a court hearing after having fought with Bob Barker]
Shooter McGavin: Hey, Happy Gilmore! Come on down!
Donald: [to Happy] You will not make this putt... you jackass!
Shooter McGavin: [after Happy putts for Waterbury victory, sort of disappointed] Oh, he's gonna be on the tour that's... that's super.
[Happy does a funny victory "dance" with his caddy]
Shooter McGavin: That's... that's cute.
Virginia: [Happy has just been hit by a car] Happy! Happy are you okay?
Happy Gilmore: [groaning] Volkswagen!
Donald: [out of the window, driving the car] Jackass!
Bob Barker: [to Happy after beating him up] Now, you've had enough... bitch.
Chubbs: [Happy visits his happy place one last time, he sees Chubbs] Shut up, Happy. Don't feel bad about me. I got my hand back, see?
[Chubbs plays and sings "We've Only Just Begun" on the piano]
Happy Gilmore: You know that alligator that got your hand? Well I got his HEAD!
[opening narration voice over]
Happy Gilmore: My name is Happy Gilmore. Ever since I was old enough to skate, I loved hockey. I wasn't really the greatest skater though. But that didn't stop my dad from teaching me the secret of smacking his greatest slap shot.
[Young Happy, hits a hard plastic ball into his father's forehead]
Mr. Larson: [after bending Shooter's club and while he's quickly walking away] Hey Shooter, haven't you forgot your nine iron.
Happy Gilmore: [speaking to shooter after making his first drive of the championship] Do you know what the pathetic thing is? You have been doing this your whole life.
[seeing Happy on TV]
Chubbs: What are you doing Happy? Riding a bull? You're acting like a damn fool!
[a TV is broadcasting Happy's tirade on the golf course]
Happy Gilmore: Piece of monkey shit!
Grandma: Who are you waving at, Happy?
Happy Gilmore: Nobody, Grandma. Let's go home.
Announcer: Happy Gilmore is in big trouble, Jack. He's lost the power to hit the long ball.
Bob Barker: How you doing, Happy? I'm Bob Barker.
Happy Gilmore: What an honor. How nice to meet you.
Bob Barker: Looks like you and I are going to be playing together today.
Happy Gilmore: [to Chubbs] A guy your size, why don't you play a real sport, like football?
Chubbs: My Momma wouldn't sign the permission slip. Said it might be a little too dangerous.
Happy Gilmore: Yeah, good call.
Happy Gilmore: [to the golfers] Step right up, folks. See if you can out drive the amazing Golf Ball, uh, Whacker Guy!
Happy Gilmore: [to Grandma] I'm telling you this place is perfect, you're gonna make friends in no time.
IRS Agent: [to Happy] Mrs. Gilmore owes the IRS two hundred and seventy thousand dollars in back taxes. We have to take the house. And if you can't get the money together in ninety days, we're gonna have to sell the house to someone else.
Crazy Old Lady: [after the air conditioner falls out the window and on an old lady] Mista, mista! Get this off of me!
Crazy Old Lady: Mista!
Happy Gilmore: Hang on, I'll be right down there!
Happy Gilmore: [turns to Grandma] Hey, you know that 'Mista Mista Lady'... I think I just killed her!
Happy Gilmore: [Having a bad day of golfing due to a member of the crowd] That guy's driving me *crazy*!
Bob Barker: You know what's driving *me* crazy? You, not getting the ball in the hole.
Happy Gilmore: Don't push me, Bob! Now's not the time.
[Happy hits the ball, which hits a man standing on a boat, who then falls into the water]
Bob Barker: This guy sucks!
Announcer: We haven't seen Happy Gilmore play *this* badly since his first day on tour. He and Bob Barker are now dead-last.
Bob Barker: I can't *believe* you're a professional golfer! I think you should be working at the snack bar.
Happy Gilmore: [Angrily, with teeth clenched] You better relax, Bob.
Bob Barker: There is *no* way that you could have been as bad at hockey as you are at golf!
Happy Gilmore: Alright, let's go!
[Happy throws down his club and punches Bob in the face, who falls to the ground]
Happy Gilmore: You like that, old man? You want a piece of me?
Bob Barker: [Shaking his head as he gets up] I don't want a *piece* of you, I want the *whole thing*!
[Punches Happy in the gut, then proceeds to punch him in the face ten times, sending Happy falling into a pond]
Happy Gilmore: [Happy gets out] Now you're gonna get it, Bobby!
[Happy grabs his club and swings at Bob, who blocks, punches Happy in the face, then throws him to the ground. Happy tackles Bob, resulting in both of them rolling down a hill. At the bottom, Happy headbutts Bob]
Happy Gilmore: The price is *wrong*, bitch!
Bob Barker: [Bob grabs Happy's throat, opens his eyes with a menacing look, stands up, punches Happy in the gut twice, and once in the face before Happy falls down again] I think you've had enough.
[Starts to walk away, but notices Happy start to stand up again]
Bob Barker: No?
[Kicks Happy in the face]
Bob Barker: *Now* you've had enough... bitch.
Chubbs: Thanks for dressing up.
Happy Gilmore: If saw myself in clothes like that, I'd have to kick my own ass.
Happy Gilmore: This is a biggie, time's ticking. I gotta make some money. What do you think? Slightly downhill?
Otto: And slanting left.
Happy Gilmore: No, it only seems that way because you have only one shoe on.
Fan: Happy, the gold jacket's yours. Shooter's gonna choke!