Stuart Little 2 (2002)
Snowbell: Margalo? Where are you?
Margalo: [from inside a paint can where Falcon has her imprisoned] In the can!
Snowbell: Oh, OK. I'll wait.
Falcon: The party's over, furface.
[Falcon goes into an attack dive]
Snowbell: I wish I were the one that was dead!
Snowbell: No. But I'm feeling very unhappy!
Snowbell: What's wrong with giving up?... and just think of the time you save!
[Monty is looking in a trash can]
Monty: Oh, can't I get any food in this city?
[Falcon falls out of the sky and lands in the trash can. Monty looks up at the sky]
Monty: Thank you.
Fredrick Little: Now, now. If there's a problem I simply pull on this string...
[he does and it breaks]
Fredrick Little: Well, now you can be upset.
[Falcon has picked up Stuart and is going to drop him]
Margalo: Don't hurt him, Falcon!
Falcon: I won't hurt him. The sidewalk will!
Snowbell: You've got guts, kid! And you've got spunk! Not to mention moxy! You've got guts, spunk, and moxy!
Stuart Little: Don't worry about Snowbell. He wouldn't hurt a fly.
[Outside, Snowbell catches a fly, eats it]
Snowbell: [burps] Oh, those flies really come back on ya!
[Snowball hissing at Margalo, starts coughing]
Snowbell: Oh, oh! Hairball! Major hairball! And yet we continue to lick ourselves. Unbelievable!
Snowbell: [trying to get the Littles' attention] Ho little, hoo wittle, hey wattle...
[when asked to clean up Martha's spilled oatmeal]
Snowbell: Oh, great, it's glop. Look what I'm reduced to. I'm a Handi-Wipe with hair.
Margalo: I'm leaving you, forever.
Falcon: And what do you think you will be without me?
[the falcon dives up to behind Margalo, and stomps his feet loud enough while landing at her to startle her]
Falcon: Remember me?
Margalo: You scared me.
Falcon: What can I say? I'm a scary guy.
Snowbell: [looking down on New York City, while climbing very high; and thinking about the mean falcon at the same time] I hope I live to regret this.
Stuart Little: Little high, little low!
Mrs. Little: [from a distance] Little hey, little hoe.
Margalo: What the heck was that?
Stuart Little: Oh, that's just how we greet each other.
Snowbell: Nauseating is more like it.
[Will discovers that George is in trouble with Mrs. Little]
Will: What are you going to do now?
George Little: Where's Canada?
George Little: Am I in trouble?
Fredrick Little: No, son, you're not in trouble.
Fredrick Little: You're in BIG trouble!
[George frowns when he hears this]
Stuart Little: [after Margalo disappears] She's in terrible trouble, and I have to help her. I mean, what am I, a man or a
Stuart Little: mouse?
Snowbell: Uh... is that a trick question?
George Little: [answering the phone] Stuart!
George Little: Stuart, where are you? How are you? Are you all right? Did you find her? How's Snowbell? When are you coming home? Mom and Dad are asking alotta questions.
Stuart Little: So are you.
Stuart Little: [using a pay phone] Snowbell, I need more change.
Snowbell: What do I look like, a fanny pack?
Snowbell: I'm telling ya', Stuart, if more people gave up, there'd be fewer wars.
Snowbell: [after Stuart wakes him up] This better be important.
Stuart Little: Margalo's still missing.
Snowbell: I should have been more specific. I meant important to me.
[the Littles have just discovered Stuart's red roadster stripped]
Mrs. Little: Who would do such a thing?
Fredrick Little: Tiny little vandals!
Snowbell: [Stuart's car has broken down] This is a sign, like the burning bush, except this a carburetor and I'm not Moses
Fredrick Little: Stuart?
Stuart Little: Yeah, Dad?
Fredrick Little: What's the silver lining this time?
Stuart Little: She'll be back in the spring.
Stuart Little: [as Stuart and Snowbell are out searching for Margalo] Don't worry, George is covering for us!
Snowbell: George? George doesn't know poop from applesauce! And I say that with a great deal of affection!
Stuart Little: [to Margalo, as the Falcon is attacking the toy plane] If I live through this, I'm sticking to painting and dancing!
Stuart Little: How can you think of eating at a time like this?
Snowbell: Look, I'm nervous. And when I'm nervous I eat. 'Cuz I know, in my growling gut, that if anything happens to you, I'll be blamed. I'm sure the Littles already know we're gone and are planning to replace me with a hampster.
Stuart Little: [as a newspaper falls on him] Oof, hey look! The Yankees won!
Snowbell: This is a sign, Stuart, like the burning bush, except its a carberator and I'm not Moses. But it's telling us something: Let your people go!
Stuart Little: We're not giving up!
Will: Wow, this is cool. All my brother does is jam crayons up his nose!
Snowbell: Cats don't eat raisins! We have too much class. We eat fish byproducts. Also, I... need to go tinky.
Stuart Little: How about the alley?
Snowbell: An alley? I'm a cat! We're fastidious creatures. We use a litter box. We don't just yell 'Bombs away' and go wherever we are!
[Margalo leaves with the other birds to migrate South]
Fredrick Little: What's the "silver lining" Stuart?
Stuart Little: She'll be back in the spring.
Margalo: I'll miss you Stuart.
[Margalo and Stuart embrace each other]
Stuart Little: [as he grabs George's glasses] George, wake up.
[George is still sleeping]
Stuart Little: George!
George Little: [talking into his pillow] It's Saturday.
Stuart Little: I know. But it's the first day of Soccer. It's our first game.
George Little: [wakes up and puts his glasses on] Soccer? Uh... I can't today. I caught a cold while sleeping.
Stuart Little: You'll be fine. Come on, come on. It's gonna be great.
[Stuart takes his pajama top off and kicks it into the laundry hamper like a soccer ball]
Stuart Little: We're gonna play like Brazilians!
[George goes back to sleep, unfulfilled]
Mrs. Little: [hands Stuart his plate] Here you go.
Stuart Little: Thanks, Mom.
Mrs. Little: Stuart, don't forget your water bottle. George...
Fredrick Little: ...don't forget your cleats.
Fredrick Little: [to Mrs. Little] My, you're looking lovely this morning.
Mrs. Little: [as her husband kisses her] Well, some people just know how to wear oatmeal.
Mrs. Little: [feeding Martha] OK, open up.
Martha Little: Blah... blah.
Mrs. Little: [surprised, sharing the news to the other family members] Did you hear that? She said "Blah... blah"! I can't believe it! Her first word!
[George rolls his eyes at Stuart, as Stuart gives smile to George]
Mrs. Little: Where's the baby book? I'm writing it down.
Fredrick Little: [as he's packing food] I'm not sure that's technically, you know, a word.
Mrs. Little: Well, of course it is. But you know, Uncle Crenshaw says that every Little starts talking by 9 months.
Fredrick Little: Or in Uncle Crenshaw's case, never stops.
Stuart Little: Are you both coming to the game?
Fredrick Little: Wouldn't miss it!
Mrs. Little: [to Mr. Little] Frederick, this soccer game is making me very...
Fredrick Little: Proud?
Mrs. Little: Anxious... especially about...
[Stuart grabs some jelly from the jar and slips]
Stuart Little: I'm fine.
Fredrick Little: He's fine.
Mrs. Little: All those boys stomping around in cleats. What if someone...
[makes a smashing gesture]
Fredrick Little: Oh, Honey. He's a Little. All Littles are natural athletes.
[Mr. Little is struggling to get a jar of pickles open]
Mrs. Little: Do you need...
Fredrick Little: Could you?
[Mrs. Little pops the top off the pickle jar]
Fredrick Little: [Martha throws her dish on the floor]
Mrs. Little: [grabbing Martha from her high chair] OK, that's it for you.
Mrs. Little: [to Snowbell] Snow, food.
Snowbell: [running down the stairs] "Food"? Is it tuna or herring? Or dare I say it, is it lox? Oh, please be lox!
Mrs. Little: [to Snowbell; Picks up the bowl leaving the food] Snow, that's for you.
Fredrick Little: How about it, boys? Are you ready to play some soccer?
Stuart Little: You bet, Dad!
Snowbell: [disgusted] Oh, it's glop. Look what I'm reduced to. I'm a handy wipe with hair.
Will: [as Stuart is flying] This is cool. All my brother does is jam crayons up his nose.
[Stuart has started the plane by accident; George and Will are playing a video game upstairs]
Will: Hey, what's that noise?
George Little: Sounds like a lawn mower.
Will: Inside the house?
[the boys rush downstairs to find the plane has started with Stuart in the cockpit]
George Little: Stuart, what are you doing?
Stuart Little: I'm not doing anything!
George Little: Pull the break!
[Stuart pulls the break, and flies to another part of the house]
Stuart Little: [to George] Get the book!
Will: This is cool. All my brother does is jam crayons up his nose.
George Little: [reading the instruction booklet] It says here, "On takeoff, pull back on the throttle".
Stuart Little: "Take off"? I'm already in the air!
[Stuart flies over George and Will's heads]
Stuart Little: Snowbell, get out of the way!
Snowbell: [running] Please don't hurt me!
[Mr. Little is upstairs]
Fredrick Little: [to George and Will] What's going on?
Will: Oh, nothing. Stuart is just flying in the house.
[Mr. Little sighs, but then becomes alarmed]
Fredrick Little: [shouting] Flying in the house?
George Little: At least he's indoors, nothing bad can happen.
Stuart Little: Watch out! Hit the dirt!
[Stuart flies over the boys' heads again, as Mrs. Little opens the door, holding a bouquet of flowers]
Mrs. Little: [as Stuart crashes into the flowers] Stuart!