Memorable quotes for
Schizopolis (1996) More at IMDbPro »

Bad Guy: Your brother.
Dr. Jeffrey Korchak: You're... you're looking for my brother? I don't know where he is. He wanted to stay with me, but I told him...
Bad Guy: 8 hours, your brother, $15,000.
Dr. Jeffrey Korchak: $15,000, my brother, 8 hours. Well, but if...
Bad Guy: Your brother...
Dr. Jeffrey Korchak: ...my brother...
Bad Guy: $15,000, 8 hours.
Dr. Jeffrey Korchak: Yeah, okay, but if I can't find my brother, can I give you the $15,000? Do you still need my brother, or...?
Bad Guy: 8 hours, your brother, $15,000.
Dr. Jeffrey Korchak: All three of those things?
Bad Guy: Correct.
Dr. Jeffrey Korchak: All three?
Bad Guy: Correct.
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Dr. Jeffrey Korchak: [reading aloud] Dear attractive woman number 2, only once in my life have I responded to a person the way I've responded to you, but I've forgotten when it was or even if it was in fact me that responded. I may not know much, but I know that the wind sings your name endlessly, although with a slight lisp that makes it difficult to understand if I'm standing near an air conditioner. I know that your hair sits atop your head as though it could sit nowhere else. I know that your figure would make a sculptor cast aside his tools, injuring his assistant who was looking out the window instead of paying attention. I know that your lips are as full as that sexy french model's that I desperately want to fuck. I know that if for an instant I could have you lie next to me, or on top of me, or sit on me, or stand over me and shake, then I would be the happiest man in my pants. I know all of this, and yet you do not know me. Change your life; accept my love. Or, at least let me pay you to accept it.
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Dr. Jeffrey Korchak: I may vote Republican, but I'm a firm believer in gum control.
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Dr. Jeffrey Korchak: Remember: Be true to your teeth, and they won't be false to you.
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Dr. Jeffrey Korchak: You don't have to floss all your teeth; just the ones you want to keep.
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Elmo Oxygen: Fuck you guys! No more of this mayonnaise... this shit! I'm outta here! Fuck you!
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Fletcher Munson: Hello!
Neighbor: Hello.
Fletcher Munson: How are you?
Neighbor: Fine.
Fletcher Munson: Is your wife coming over tonight? Because her big ass always leaves me satisfied.
Neighbor: Nice of you to mention her. She enjoys sex with you much more than she does with me.
Fletcher Munson: I'm sure she says that to all the men in the neighborhood.
Neighbor: You may be right about that one.
Fletcher Munson: I'll see you later.
Neighbor: Okay.
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Mrs. Nameless Numberhead Man: Arsenal. Nose army.
Elmo Oxygen: Nose army. Beef diaper?
Mrs. Nameless Numberhead Man: Nomenclature.
Elmo Oxygen: Throbbing dust generation!
Mrs. Nameless Numberhead Man: Drum tissue outburst.
Elmo Oxygen: Jigsaw. Uh, fragment chief butter. King surgery mind?
Mrs. Nameless Numberhead Man: Bunny bucket.
Elmo Oxygen: Precision galley sponge.
Mrs. Nameless Numberhead Man: Smell sign.
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Newswoman: The federal government announced today that in an effort to eradicate the national debt, it will be selling the state of Rhode Island to a group of private investors, for a reported $18 billion. The investors plan to enclose the entire state with an all-weather roof, and turn it into the world's largest shopping mall. When asked for comment, a White House spokesperson would only say, "Well, at least we didn't sell it to the fucking Japanese."
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Right Hand Man: Who's that... that moron, the one who used to work in your sector. The one who wears the brown shirt all the time?
Fletcher Munson: Oh, Nameless Numberhead Man?
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Mrs. Munson: Y'know, there was a time... there was a time when I felt like an old rag with a stain you couldn't get out, and you... you were like a piece of rotting fruit on a window sill. And it was great.
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Fletcher Munson: [sunnily, on homecoming] Generic greeting!
Mrs. Munson: [warmly] Generic greeting returned!
[they kiss and chuckle at each other]
Fletcher Munson: Imminent sustenance.
Mrs. Munson: Overly dramatic statement regarding upcoming meal.
Fletcher Munson: Oooh! False reaction indicating hunger and excitement!
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Fletcher Munson: [wife snuggles up amorously] Ooh! *Really* well-rehearsed speech about workload and stress.
[pause]
Fletcher Munson: Genuine sorrow. Um... truthful-sounding promises of future satisfaction? Enticement to agree?
Mrs. Munson: [pause] Accepted.
Fletcher Munson: Gratitude.
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Minister at funeral: [deadpan] Lester Richards is dead. And aren't you glad it wasn't you? Don't you wish you felt something? How many men here are attracted to Shelley, his lovely wife? She's a babe. And how many women here wish that their husbands would drop dead and leave them a big fat insurance policy? Yes, I thought so. Hell, it'll be years before you figure out what Lester's death really means. So let's forget the blah blah blah, and go have a drink. Amen.
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Elmo Oxygen: I can make sense out of yesterday. Can you understand the power of that?
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Filmmaker: [closing speech from stage] Ladies and gentlemen, young and old, I know this may seem an unusual procedure, but I thought you might have some questions, and since I'm already here, I can answer some of them.
[looking left and right, pausing]
Filmmaker: Yes. Yes. Not specifically: I actually find all of them rather weird. Yes. Footlong veggie on wheat. Thank you.
[camera shows empty auditorium as he leaves]
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Newswoman: A New Mexico woman was named Final Arbiter of Taste & Justice today, ending God's lengthy search for someone to straighten this country out. Eileen Harriet Palglace will have final say on every known subject, including who should be put to death, what clothes everyone should wear, what movies suck, and whether bald men who grow ponytails should still get laid.
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Right Hand Man: Munson!
Fletcher Munson: [Runs into office]
Right Hand Man: I don't need to tell you how critical this is. Hometown. Pay-per-view. The eyes of the media. Here's what I need. It should be lengthy enough to... seem substantial... yet concise enough to feel breezy. It should be serious... but with a slight wink. It should lay out a new course of action... but one that can change direction at any moment. If you must mention facts and figures, don't do so directly.
Right Hand Man: I don't need to tell you how critical this is. Hometown. Pay-per-view. The eyes of the media. Here's what I need. It should be lengthy enough to... seem substantial... yet concise enough to feel breezy. It should be serious... but with a slight wink. It should lay out a new course of action... but one that can change direction at any moment. If you must mention facts and figures, don't do so directly. It should be on my desk Friday morning.
Fletcher Munson: Is there something you want me...
Right Hand Man: [Yelling] Lester Richards... has fucked me... has fucked Mr. Schwitters... and has fucked the entire corporation. You're writing the speech!
Fletcher Munson: I can't.
Right Hand Man: Are you telling me that you can't... take a substantial raise or that huge new office? Is that what you're telling me?
Fletcher Munson: Friday?
Right Hand Man: a.m.
Fletcher Munson: [after long uncomfortable silence, he motions to leave] I'll just...
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