Undercover Brother: You mess with the 'fro, you got to go.
Undercover Brother: Solid!
[after killing three bodyguards with his bare hands in a temper tantrum]
Lance: They shouldn't have called me a sissy.
[Stoned, walking into The Man's communications room]
Lance: This isn't Taco Bell! Oh, man...
Undercover Brother: [Smart Brother tried to turn Undercover Brother into a white man expert by showing his various and random clips from white movies and t.v. shows. Undercover Brother begins screaming so they stop the clips] CAUCASIAN OVERLOAD! CAUCASIAN OVERLOAD! CAUCASIAN OVERLOAD! CAUCASIAN OVERLOAD!
Smart Brother: Are you alright?
Undercover Brother: [pauses with a horrified look on his face] ... I... see... WHITE... people
[Knock on door]
Mr. Feather: Who's there?
Undercover Brother: Kung.
Mr. Feather: Kung who?
[Anton kicks down the door]
Undercover Brother: Kung Fu!
General Boutwell: Move over Colonel, here comes the General!
The Chief: Today is a great day for black people of all races.
Conspiracy Brother: George Washington Carver made the first computer! Out of a peanut! A PEA-NUT!
Undercover Brother: Wait a minute, how'd the white boy get a job at "the B.R.O.T.H.E.R.H.O.O.D."?
The Chief: Shit, what can I say? Affirmative action.
Undercover Brother: Hi.
Conspiracy Brother: "Hi"? What you mean "hi"? Like "high yellow wanna be white"? "High" like the *white man* wants to keep us? Wait, you don't smell any weed on me, do you?
Undercover Brother: Brother, when you get a minute, could I get a list of the words that trigger these fits?
Undercover Brother: Honey, is that Michael Bolton's version of "The Thong Song"?
Undercover Brother: Are you telling me there really is a Man'?
Conspiracy Brother: What do you think? Things don't just happen by accident! Sometimes people - mostly *white* people - make things happen!
Undercover Brother: So the conspiracies we've believed for all these years are true? The NBA really did institute the three point shot to give white boys a chance?
Smart Brother: Absolutely!
Undercover Brother: Then the entertainment industry really *is* out to get Spike Lee?
Conspiracy Brother: Come on man! Even Cher's won an Oscar! Cher!
Undercover Brother: Then O.J. really didn't do it?
[Everyone looks away and mumbles]
The Chief: We... we ain't got time for this!
Undercover Brother: What it is, chief?
Sistah Girl: Undercover Brother, Conspiracy Brother
Conspiracy Brother: Hey, how ya doin.
Undercover Brother: Good mornin!
Conspiracy Brother: Good morning? Get on the desk, spy in the building! Spy...
Undercover Brother: Don't touch the fro!
Conspiracy Brother: Back up off me man!
Undercover Brother: Back up off me!
Conspiracy Brother: Let me tell you something about the word "good," brotha. Good is an ancient anglo-saxon word, go-od, meanin the absence of color. I.E. it's all good, which it is, OR Good Will Huntin', meanin, "I'm Huntin' Niggas!" So when you say good morning, what your telling me is "I'm gonna kill yo black ass, first thing in the mornin'!"
Undercover Brother: [Watching White-she Devil and Sistah Girl in a shower] Water cold. Water cold!
The Chief: What the hell you doing bringing a white girl up in my house, boy?
Penelope Snow: Once you've been with Undercover Brother, there is no other.
[after "The Boss" leaves him to die for failing]
Mr. Feather: Hey! Don't go dissing me!
General Boutwell: I used to work at the Pentagon, but now I help get your chicken on.
Sistah Girl: Great, a Soul Train reject, with a Robin Hood complex.
The Chief: I'm tired of you disrespecting me! Give me one good reason why I shouldn't fire your black-ass?
Undercover Brother: Because I... don't... work for you?
The Chief: SHUT UP! Save the smart comments for the chunky brother in the smock!
Conspiracy Brother: No, it's once your black there's no turning back.
Conspiracy Brother: Jesus Christ: black man. Babe Ruth: black man. Madonna:... slept with black men.
Conspiracy Brother: Oh, shit! It's Macy Gray with Porkchop Sideburns.
Conspiracy Brother: Smart brother? Am I gonna die?
Conspiracy Brother: The computer, another idea stolen from the black man.
Undercover Brother: You know what they say, behind every great black man...
Conspiracy Brother: is the police.
Undercover Brother: No.
Smart Brother: A bunch of slow white athletes?
Undercover Brother: No!
White She-Devil: A cute butt.
Undercover Brother: NO!
Lance: Probable cause.
Lance: [screeching] I... am not... a sissy!
Man: Identify yourselfs!
Conspiracy Brother: I'm with Island Fortress Cleaning Service sir.
Man: Oh, okay.
Sistah Girl: Thank you. Your so sweet.
Mr. Feather: It's time to unleash our secret weapon; I call it "Black-man's Kryptonite"
Lance: So let me get this straight; whenever a black guy does well, starts wearing Dockers, buys a few Celine Dion records, and sleeps with a White chick, you automatically say he's sold out?
The Chief: That's enough, Lance!
Lance: Always trying to shut the white man down.
Conspiracy Brother: THAT'S RIGHT! That's Right!... Oh, that ain't right.
Conspiracy Brother: That's Right! It's goin' to the streets. Hey y'all! It's revolution up in this Bitch! Set the alarm for Defcon 5! It's on, baby... it's on!
The Chief: Good work, White She-Devil. Oh, and you in too.
Conspiracy Brother: What the Fuck? Chief! I've never seen this bitch in my agent classes! I'm still paying the loans off, man! I sleep on a pissy mattress! I ain't got good food to eat! I borough money for my Weed! I quit! That's it. Y'all ain't got Conspiracy Brother Jones to kick around no more! Give me a pillow case... I'm joining the Klan!
[after witnessing the General's speech]
The Chief: Smart Brother, you're so damn smart. Can you tell us what the Hell just happened?
Smart Brother: Well, uh, I, uh, um...
The Chief: [mocking him] Well, um, I, uh... Shut up! If I wanted to hear something stupid, I'd ask his skinny Black Ass!
Conspiracy Brother: Ha, ha! In your face! Ha! Skinny black... HEY!
[to Undercover Brother]
Smart Brother: If you're going to fit in to white America, you're gonna have to learn to like MAYONNAISE!
Lance: It looks like the Source Awards in here...
[Conspiracy Brother punches him]
Conspiracy Brother: It does now!
Conspiracy Brother: Atomic Coré... let's see what this so-called button does...
Computer voice: Attention! Atomic core set to overload
Conspiracy Brother: My bad!
Mr. Feather: You see what's happening, don't you? How we're being corrupted by their hipper-than-thou fashion and cool slang you can't help but use?
[as black cultural leaders begin to fall prey to The Man's plan]
The Chief: Jay-Z to cover Lawrence Welk's greatest hits? John Singleton to remake "Driving Miss Daisy"? Terry McMillan - "How Stella got her White Man Back"? Double damn it! Black people all over the world are losin' their damn minds!
Lance: I have stood on the sidelines of race relations long enough! I want to march down that field of oppression and kick that ball of bigotry right over the goalpost of intolerance!
The Chief: Son, you talk a lot of shit.
Lance: Yes, I do.
The Chief: But you down.
Mr. Feather: Y'all gonna make me lose my mind up in here!
Undercover Brother: There are times for falling apart, and there are times for getting' funky. This is one of them funky times. So what's it gonna be? You ready to play some funky music, white boy?
The Man: That Feather went out like a sucka. Punk-assed bitch played himself. Let's bounce, dog!
[after Undercover Brother escapes a massive explosion by floating down a cliff in parachute pants]
The Chief: Didn't you cause about a ba-zillion dollars worth of damage? And I sure as hell ain't covering for ya; I don't care how sexy you look floating down in your little pants!
Sistah Girl: Undecover Brother, are you OK?
Undercover Brother: Everythings cool, now that your here Sistah Girl!
Mr. Feather: [snorts] YOU'RE MAKING ME LOSE MY MIND IN HERE!
Undercover Brother: See what I've been dealing with?
Sistah Girl: [frowning] Yeah...
Undercover Brother: Extra mayonnaise for me please.
Conspiracy Brother: You know he does have point about that Colonel. I never trusted the Colonel. Slaves cooked that chicken. Aint no white man know anything about herbs and spices and gibblits.
Penelope Snow: Hi Ton-ja. Listen... I was wondering, do you have any Dickies? 'Cause I couldn't find them.
Sistah Girl: [glaring at Undercover Brother/Anton] Really? Perhaps we're all *sold out*.
Penelope Snow: Aw, that's too bad. Come on, Anton. I saw a mock turtleneck at Eddie Bauer that's perfect for you.
Sistah Girl: He had sex with a white girl, that's what!
Conspiracy Brother: Was it everything I dreamed of?
Sistah Girl: Excuse me?
Conspiracy Brother: [beat] Naw man, you can't be doing that...
Lance: Chief, and various brother agents. I owe all of you a huge apology. I just watched a show, ummm, Roots, maybe you've heard of it? It taught me such a profound lesson about bigotry. I have stood on the sidelines of race relations long enough! I want to march down that field of oppression and kick that ball of bigotry right over the goalpost of intolerance!