Bringing Down the House (2003)
Howie Rottman: I'd like to dip you in Cheez Wiz and spread you all over a Ritz cracker, if I'm not being too subtle.
Charlene Morton: Boy, you some kinda freaky!
Howie Rottman: Oh, you have no idea. You got me straight trippin', boo!
Georgey Sanderson: [reading an article from an adult magazine] Dad, what's a rack?
Peter Sanderson: It's a country.
Peter Sanderson: I message for you. Howie says, 'The cool points out the window and you got him all twisted up in the game.'
Charlene Morton: That's the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me.
Mrs. Arness: [to Charlene] Oh, just one moment... you know, there's a lovely, sad, Negro spiritual...
[Sarah chokes on her food]
Mrs. Arness: Ivy's brother used to... uh, are you all right?
[Sarah nods weakly and takes a sip of her drink]
Mrs. Arness: Anyway, Ivy's brother used to sing this when he came in from the tobbaco fields...
[begins to sing]
Mrs. Arness: Mmmm..."Mama, is master going to sell us tomorrow? Yes, yes, yes! Mama, is master going to sell us tomorrow? Yes, yes, yes! Mama... is master going to sell ME to-mor-or-or-row..."
Ashley: [to Peter, about Charlene] What is she doin' here?
Charlene Morton: Oh, get used to it, twiggy; you're gonna be seein' a lot more of me around here!
Ashley: [to Peter, about Charlene] Not without a broom in your hand.
Charlene Morton: If I HAVE a broom, it's only cuz I'm here to sweep up the white trash!
Ashley: Save it for the Y.M.C.A, Jemimah.
Charlene Morton: Bitch! I will kick the bulimia outta yo' ass!
Mrs. Kline: Mr. Sanderson! Is everything okay? I thought I heard Negro!
Charlene Morton: Pretend I'm your wife. Talk dirty to me.
Peter Sanderson: Um, okay... I wanna kiss you A LOT!
Charlene Morton: No no no! Dirtier...
Peter Sanderson: I wanna give you - an aromatherapy massage!
Charlene Morton: Try harder!
Peter Sanderson: I wanna have SEXUAL INTERCOURSE with...
Charlene Morton: I give up!
Ashley: Compliments of Tae-Bo: 2 hours a day 5 days a week
Charlene Morton: Compliments of the hood: 24 hours a day all my life!
Mrs. Kline: We have to brush your hair differently. You look like a fag.
Charlene Morton: I kicked it off the heezy and bounced... fo' real, tho!
Peter Sanderson: What did you just say?
Howie Rottman: Do me a favor, precious: don't ever scare me like that again, or I'm gonna give you a nasty spankie... if I'm not being too subtle!
Charlene Morton: [smiles] He's such a damn freak!
Peter Sanderson: Charlene, what is this particular taste? It's familiar, yet... what is it, some sort of an herb, like sage?
Charlene Morton: Naw... it's more like a milk of mint.
Peter Sanderson: Well, whatever it is, the taste is explosive!
Charlene Morton: Well, good then! Enjoy!
Peter Sanderson: And believe me, Sarah is going places!
[Charlene looks out the window to see Sarah sneaking out and getting into a car with a boy]
Charlene Morton: Oh, she's going places alright.
Aaron: Hey, hey, hey. Watch the seats. No, I'm serious. It's leather.
Mrs. Kline: Those latin people that were skulking around here earlier...
Peter Sanderson: Oh, they were looking at that house down the street.
Mrs. Kline: Casing it?
Peter Sanderson: No, no, they were looking to buy.
Mrs. Kline: Oh, please. If those people are on this block and not holding a leaf blower...
Peter Sanderson: We'll talk more about this later, Mrs. Kline!
Peter Sanderson: I guess I'll just see you in my next life.
Peter Sanderson: Bye!
Charlene Morton: Ha-ha, I'll see you when you get home.
Charlene Morton: [to Peter] You lock me out, no money, no place to go, a sister got to get her cheese on.
Mike: [Charlene's hanging Mike by his feet off the top of a house after finding out he got rough with Sarah to have sex with her] Please don't kill me! Oh God! Pull me up!
Charlene Morton: Yo Sarah! Mike has something he wants to say,
Charlene Morton: say sorry!
Mike: I'm sorry!
Charlene Morton: Say sorry!
Mike: [louder] I'm sorry!
Charlene Morton: Say no means no!
Mike: No means no!
Peter Sanderson: [to Ashley] Why don't you go back to the vodka bottle you crawled out of?
Ashley: Oh, I can't talk about it 'cause gangsta people will come to my house and cut me.
Peter Sanderson: [nervously] Don't you just love being our nanny, Charlene?
Charlene Morton: [pauses]
[speaking in a fake Southern Accent]
Charlene Morton: Yessir. I'm gonna go on down to de pool wit' de children. Make fun of de white folks again.