Deuce Bigalow: Male Gigolo (1999)
T.J. Hicks: See this ring? Topaz, my mother's birthstone. Know where I got the money for it?
Deuce Bigalow: Where?
T.J. Hicks: Man-whoring! See this keychain? Mini yo-yo. Know where I got the money for it?
Deuce Bigalow: Man-whoring?
T.J. Hicks: Stock market! But I got the money for the stock market from man-whoring.
T.J. Hicks: T.J. don't consider himself no pimp. More of a... male madam.
T.J. Hicks: That wasn't too well thought out.
Detective Fowler: Do the letters T and J mean anything to you?
Deuce Bigalow: I don't know. Turkey Jizz?
Deuce Bigalow: Look, I think there's been a mistake.
Fluisa: Did you say steak?
Deuce Bigalow: No mistake.
Fluisa: Oh see now you got me all excited.
Antoine Laconte: This is a 14th century Hungarian crossbow. It has killed a king and changed the history of Europe. You mess up anything in my apartment, I'll shove it up your ass.
Deuce Bigalow: Wow! What are those?
Antoine Laconte: Medieval weapons. I'm a collector. They're worth twice as much if they've killed somebody.
Deuce Bigalow: I collect Canadian quarters. I've got about six of 'em.
T.J. Hicks: Claire said Antoine's apartment was messed up, but I had no idea.
Deuce Bigalow: Claire?
T.J. Hicks: The hooker you ass-punched.
Man #2: That's a huge bitch!
T.J. Hicks: Deuce, you the best he-bitch in my man stable. If I had two more manginas like you, I'd be a millionaire.
[Ruth has Tourettes Syndrome]
Ruth: Fart! Dildo! Big, Big, Big Titties!
[looks at old couple]
Ruth: SHIT! SHIT WHORES!
Deuce Bigalow: Is this Ruth?
Ruth: Yeah, I'll be right down. GOD DAMN IT!
T.J. Hicks: The "man-gina": it's a professional term we man-whores use to describe our he-pussy.
Claire: What happened to the carpet?
Deuce Bigalow: Oh, it's one of those 18th century wet rugs.
T.J. Hicks: You know, Antoine's got a really bad temper. One time, I dropped a cigar ash on his carpet, and he made me pick it up with my anus.
T.J. Hicks: What about Antoine's apartment?
Deuce Bigalow: I'm gonna get the rest of the money the old-fashioned way.
T.J. Hicks: You gonna steal it?
Deuce Bigalow: Martini, two olives.
[looks around room]
Deuce Bigalow: Any ladies need some entertainment tonight?
Bartender: [sets the martini down] Eight fifty.
Deuce Bigalow: Eight dollars?
Bartender: And fifty cents.
Deuce Bigalow: How much just for a plain cranberry juice?
Bartender: Oh, three dollars.
Deuce Bigalow: Well I'll go for that.
Bartender: [sets the juice down] There you go. That's uh, eleven fifty.
Deuce Bigalow: Uh, no, no. Perhaps you misunderstood me. I wish to cancel my original order of the martini and two olives and go for just the plain cranberry juice, by itself, for the three dollars. And I apologize for any inconvenience this may have caused you.
Bartender: Uh, perhaps you don't understand. If you don't pay me now, I'm gonna take this swizzle stick, and uh, I'll be shoving that right up your pee hole.
Deuce Bigalow: I couldn't help overhearing your Spanish.
Claire: It's French.
Deuce Bigalow: Oui, French... Nice people.
Deuce Bigalow: Where am I supposed to get six thousand dollars in three weeks?
Kate: I don't see how it could possibly be pleasurable for a woman. I just don't think it's natural. You're not supposed to go up there. To tell you the truth, I don't know how men do it either.
Deuce Bigalow: You're not curious, just to try something new?
Kate: I'm just not into it.
Deuce Bigalow: So space exploration is definitely out for you?
Kate: Definitely. I mean, more power to any woman who wants to be an astronaut. I just wouldn't do it. Frankly, I'd rather take it up the butt.
Antoine Laconte: [message on machine] Hey Deuce, it's Antoine. I just realized I don't know you that well. To be honest, it's freaking me out a little. You just make sure you keep my apartment clean or you will die. Bye bye.
Antoine Laconte: I'm a gigolo.
Deuce Bigalow: Giga-who?
Antoine Laconte: Women pay me to... give them pleasure.
Deuce Bigalow: How did you get that job?
Antoine Laconte: I just sort of fell into it.
Deuce Bigalow: I'm gonna kill my guidance counselor!
T.J. Hicks: Why you ungrateful he-bitch! Maybe I should get Antoine on the phone in Switzerland and tell him how you re-decorated his poon-palace!
Deuce Bigalow: Yeah, ball-hair, what we need is a strike here!
Antoine Laconte: Excuse me for a second, huh? Must make pee-pee.
Detective Fowler: You know anything about this?
[unzips his pants]
Detective Fowler: Look. See that red spot over there? That wasn't there this morning. I checked. You know what it is?
Deuce Bigalow: Maybe it's a rash. Something you got from jogging. How the hell do I know? Get it away from me.
Antoine Laconte: [In a baby voice] Hey fishy fishy fishy! Heyyy fishy fishy fishy fishy!
Bob Bigalow: The idea of a man-whore is a relatively new idea. Cologne?
Deuce Bigalow: No thanks.
Bob Bigalow: [loud fart in background] These women are looking for more than just sex. They want romance.
Deuce Bigalow: What do you mean?
Bob Bigalow: [another loud fart] Well, it was like when I met your mom, God rest her soul. I didn't have so much as a toilet to clean. Still, I wasn't going to pay her a dime for sex, no matter what she was charging.
Deuce Bigalow: What?
Bob Bigalow: [loud fart] Well your mom could've had any man she wanted in that strip club. And this being my first time in Bangkok, I was looking for a good time myself.
Deuce Bigalow: You met my mom where?
Bob Bigalow: It's not important.
Bob Bigalow: The thing is, she saw something in me beyond the 200 baht. A man with an eye for adventure who wasn't afraid to risk it all.
Deuce Bigalow: Dad, are you saying that...
Bob Bigalow: [diarrhea splattering into toilet in background] So we took all her one-dollar bills off the stage, said good-bye to that donkey, and two days later we were man and wife. And we were happily married a long time.
Deuce Bigalow: So, do you think I should be more of a risk-taker?
Bob Bigalow: [toilet flushing] Worked for me.
Deuce Bigalow: Thanks, pops.
Deuce Bigalow: Maybe we should take care of a little business first.
Claire: If you prefer.
Deuce Bigalow: I don't have a set price or anything, but I have been getting ten dollars.
Claire: I'm sorry?
Deuce Bigalow: Well that's my going rate. But I'm willing to negotiate.
Claire: [chuckles] That's funny. But the price is five hundred.
Deuce Bigalow: You're gonna pay me five hundred dollars?
Claire: No, honey, you pay me.
Deuce Bigalow: Oh, I get it. This is some kind of role reversal. I'll play along with this.
Deuce Bigalow: Okay, 300, 400, 500, you're my hooker. No, seriously, where's my ten dollars?
Deuce Bigalow: Whoa! Chinese Tailbar Lionfish. He's a beaut! That's an $800 fish!
Antoine Laconte: Try a grand.
Deuce Bigalow: Then you overpaid.
Fluisa: I know what you're thinkin'. You're thinkin' those are the biggest boobies you've ever seen.
T.J. Hicks: This next date is what we man-pimps call a doozy.
Deuce Bigalow: What's wrong with this one?
T.J. Hicks: Nothin'.
Deuce Bigalow: Have you seen her? What is she 80? A hunchback?
T.J. Hicks: She just got outta college. Some of her girlfriends pitched in to get her a little beefcake. She thinks it's a blind date.
Deuce Bigalow: It's a guy isn't it?
T.J. Hicks: I don't think so, but I have been fooled before.
Fluisa: You ever parked your bicycle in an airplane hangar?
Deuce Bigalow: I'm sorry?
Fluisa: You ever thrown a toothpick into a volcano?
Detective Fowler: [about his penis] I'm telling you if you painted it silver and twisted the end, it'd look like a kickstand.
Detective Fowler: Listen up, man-whore. I oughta bust you right now!
Deuce Bigalow: We just had sushi!
Detective Fowler: "Sushi?" Is that what they call it nowadays? I'm hip to your man-whore slang. All right, fine. Why don't I just go have a chat with your spicy tuna roll?
Carol: I have narcolepsy. It's a sleeping disorder. It isn't the worst thing you could ever have. I'm just not allowed to fly in a plane or drive a car or work in a gun range.
Bob Bigalow: Raspberry Bibingka! Ah, you shouldn't have. My wife, God rest her soul, used to make this all the time. You would've liked her. Bangkok Betty. She had the most amazing mouth. It paid for our honeymoon.
Vic: Bob, we have an overflowing toilet in the ladies' bathroom. There is shit everywhere. It's a real mess. You think you could get in there and take care of that for me?
Bob Bigalow: No worries, Vic. Right on it. I'd like you to meet my son's girlfriend, Kate.
Vic: Kate, nice to meet you. Hi Deuce. So could you get in there, Bob? I mean, I got a party of ten coming in, and I am up to my ankles in human crap. It's a real stinkfest back there.
Detective Fowler: You better show some respect, or I'm gonna rip that little pleasure-giving tongue right out of your head! One more thing
[drops his pants]
Detective Fowler: I was at the precinct and I really had to use the John. And it's pretty filthy in there and I was in kind of a hurry, and I didn't have time to use one of those, you know, paper ass gaskets. I was doing my business, and something sort of splashed up on me, all over. What do you do in situations like that? You think I'll be alright?
Deuce Bigalow: I think you're pretty safe.
Detective Fowler: I'd better be!
Deuce Bigalow: If man-whoring has taught me anything, it's that most women are as unhappy with their entire body as you are with your small penis.
Detective Fowler: Thin penis.
Deuce Bigalow: Whatever. While you're worried about your penis...
Detective Fowler: Thin penis.
Deuce Bigalow: Women are worried about their height, their weight, their giant feet, the stream of obscenities that could burst through their mouth at any second. If you make a woman feel good about herself, it really doesn't matter what's wrong with you.
Detective Fowler: Even if it's really really thin? We're talkin' spaghetti stick.
Fluisa: He made me realize that I wasn't just some hot babe with huge tits, even though I am.
Deuce Bigalow: I should have told you right from the start. But I was afraid.
Kate: Afraid of what?
Deuce Bigalow: Afraid that a girl as wonderful as you could never fall for a guy who cleans fish tanks, 'cause that's who I really am. This whole gigolo thing was just a mistake. But I'm glad it happened 'cause I never would have met you. I never would have known what love was. I'm sorry. I'm not perfect.
Kate: I'm not perfect either.
Deuce Bigalow: Yes you are. You're perfect in every way. I knew it the moment I met you.
[pulls out a folded envelope and reads]
Deuce Bigalow: "Kate, you have a smile that could melt an iceberg. Your lips are as sweet as honey. You may only have one leg, but it's the most beautiful leg in the world."