Bad Santa (2003)
Willie: You can't drink worth shit.
Marcus: I weigh 92 pounds, you dick!
[Willie has just passed out]
Gin: Look here, get himy outta here and I'll go smooth things over with Chipeska, Tell him it was food poisoning or something.
Marcus: What do you mean, get him outta here?
Gin: Take him to the car.
Marcus: In case you didn't notice I'm a motherfucking dwarf, so unless you got a forklift handy, maybe you should lend a hand hmm?
Gin: That figures. You want all kind of set-asides. Special treatment 'cause you're handicapped. You're all the same.
Marcus: Special treatment? I'm 3-foot-fucking-tall you asshole! It's a matter of physics. Draw me a sketch of how I get him to the car, huh?
Gin: Bitch, Bitch, Bitch!
Marcus: Sketch it up, you fucking moron. Fucking Leonardo da Vinci.
Gin: What'd you call me thigh-high?
Marcus: I called you a fucking guinea homo from the 15th-fucking-century, you dickhead!
Gin: I could stick you up my ass, small fry.
Marcus: Yeah? You sure it ain't too sore from last night?
Gin: You got some lip on you midget.
Marcus: Yeah? Well these lips were on your wife's pussy last night. Why don't you dust that thing off once in a while? Asshole!
Marcus: It won't happen again. I can promise you that. Willie here has low blood sugar. That's all.
Willie: That's right. I forgot to take my pill.
Bob Chipeska: It's not just the swearing. Forgive me for prying, but did one of you, um, fornicate...
Bob Chipeska: Yes. With a heavy-set woman in the big-and-tall dressing room?
Willie: Look, I've boned a lot of fat chicks in my time, sure. But, as far back as I can remember, I've never fornicated anybody.
Bob Chipeska: Yes... Well, even still, I think it's best for all parties considered if we...
Marcus: If we what?
Bob Chipeska: Well, I have somebody else interested in the position.
Willie: Before you do something stupid you might want to think about this shit.
Bob Chipeska: What are you talking about?
Willie: I'm talking about firing a little black midget. A small, colored, African-American small person. That's what I'm talking about. I'm talking about your face all over goddamn USA Today, that's what I'm talking about. I'm talking about 150 of these little motherfuckers all over the sidewalk out there. Holding picket signs and using bullhorns and shit like that. Screaming and hollering your name out. Unfair practices, get me?
Bob Chipeska: Oh no, this is not a handicapped thing. I have nothing against you people.
Willie: You people? Did you hear that Marcus? He said 'You People.'
Marcus: Who the hell is us people?
Bob Chipeska: No... He said... But... what... No no. Um, I think it's best if we just forget we had this conversation.
Willie: Good thinking. And don't worry about us. We'll be fine. Let's get the hell out of here Marcus.
[Willie and Marcus get up to leave as Willie turns back to Bob]
Willie: You're pathetic.
Willie: I said, "Next," goddamn it! This is not the DMV!
Hindustani Troublemaker: I am not gay!
Willie: What the hell, buddy.
Hindustani Troublemaker: Buddy? I said I am not gay!
Willie: Are you off your fucking meds or something?
Hindustani Troublemaker: Yes. But that isn't what this is about. You're as queer as a ten dollar bill.
Willie: Let me tell you something, motherfucker. My brother lost a goddamn arm fighting you fuckers in Vietnam. So I want you to look at me. I want you to look at my face one last fucking time. This is the last thing you're ever gonna see before I...
Hindustani Troublemaker: [grabs Willie and pins him against the car] Elf fucker! Motherfucker. Elf fucker! Who's the bitch now, Santy Claus? Faggy Claus! Faggy...
Kid: Leave Santa alone!
Hindustani Troublemaker: Little boy, don't interfere. I am doing this for all of us.
Kid: Leave Santa alone!
Hindustani Troublemaker: [Willie pulls free. Hindustani Troublemaker turns to leave] Ass clown.
Bob Chipeska: I just can't help it. There's something about the guy that makes me uneasy.
Gin: Well sure. Santa fucking someone in the ass...
Kid: Good night, Santa. Good night, Mrs. Santa's sister.
Marcus: You're an emotional fucking cripple. Your soul is dog shit. Every single fucking thing about you is ugly.
Kid: Do you and Mrs. Santa have kids?
Willie: No, thank the fuck Christ.
Kid: What about the elves?
Willie: Well, they stay with Mrs. Santa. I get them on the weekends.
Marcus: [looking over the list of items his girl wants him to steal] I have to get a loofah and a...
[he's about to turn around when the safe door swings open. Stacks of money fall out of the door]
Marcus: Fuck the loofah, let's go!
Sue: I've always had a thing for Santa Claus. In case you didn't notice. It's like some deep-seeded childhood thing.
Willie: So is my thing for tits.
Willie: Why don't you go take a shower?
Dancer girlfriend: I'm a dancer, I sweat.
Willie: Well, you smell like a bum's nut sack.
Dancer girlfriend: Fuck you.
Watching Boy: [stares at Willie] I saw you at another mall.
Willie: Well, I'm happy for you.
Watching Boy: If you really are Santa, you could do magic.
Willie: [whispers] Wanna see some magic? OK, let's watch you disappear!
[shoves him away]
Bob Chipeska: Hi. Bob Chipeska. Welcome. Great photo and resume by the way.
Marcus: Thanks. You know, we've been at this for a long time and all, so we like to think we do a good job.
Bob Chipeska: You two are perfect for this job, truly. So, I don't want his unpleasentness affect your performance in any way.
Marcus: Oh no. We...
Bob Chipeska: Yes. Your performance. You know, the...
Willie: Do you mean sexual?
[Bob looks up at Willie in confusion]
Bob Chipeska: Excuse me?
Willie: Are you saying there's something wrong with my gear? Is that what you're saying to me?
Bob Chipeska: I'm sorry, your gear?
Willie: My fuck stick
[Bob makes a disgusted look]
Marcus: Willie, take a seat. You know how your blood sugar is.
Bob Chipeska: He's not going to say fuck stick in front of the children, is he?
Marcus: No! It was just a joke. An adult joke. For us, adults. It's a joke. Just a joke.
Gin: [after seeing a kid has placed a game in his pants] What's this?
Shoplifter: I was going to pay for it.
Gin: Wrong answer.
Kid: Your beard's not real.
Willie: No Shit!It was real, but I got sick and all the hair fell out.
Kid: How come?
Willie: I loved a woman who wasn't clean.
Kid: Mrs. Santa?
Willie: No it was her sister.
Willie: It's Christmas and the kid's gettin' his fuckin' present.
Marcus: [Willie, as Santa, is scratching his butt while a line of kids looks on] I don't think you should be digging in your ass.
Marcus: If I call you next December, IF I call you next December, you're gonna be so happy to hear from me, you're gonna do a goddamn back flip. You're gonna put that Santa hat on so fast that you're gonna get fucking hat-burn.
Miami Bartender: Hey, asshole. How many times I gotta tell you, get out from behind my bar! Put the drink down right now. Put the drink down right now!
Willie: [gulps drink down] Fuck you.
Miami Bartender: Fuck me?
[lunges at Willie; they fight]
[Willie is thrown over the bar; He recovers and chucks a glass at the bartender]
Willie: Fuck you!
Miami Bartender: Fucking prick.
Miami Bartender: Get the fuck out of here right now!
Marcus: How much?
Willie: No fucking way...
Marcus: Just back off, Will, I got this. I got this! Okay, 30%. That's three of us. 30%, that's fair.
Marcus: I meant 33%.
Gin: I meant half.
Marcus: And 1/3.
Marcus: Um... 45%.
Gin: [Thinks for a minute] Half.
Gin: [In British accent] Half.
Willie: [upon seeing the safe] Oh shit.
Marcus: What? What?
Willie: It's a Kintnerboy Redoubt.
Willie: Remember Andy Pitz?
Marcus: Andy Pitzerelli, yeah.
Willie: No, Andy Repitski. Andy Pitzerelli was Andy Blue Balls.
Marcus: Since he got married they called him Andy Pitzerelli. What's your fucking point?
Willie: Well they say he can get into anything. Anything. They say he's been in Margaret Thatcher's pussy.
Marcus: And that's a good thing? So what the fuck are you getting at?
Willie: When I was in the joint with him, he told me the Kintnerboy Redoubt can't be cracked.
Marcus: Are you shitting me? Are you telling me that after I propped you up, held you together, smiled for all those kids, danced for all those fuckin' housewives in a fucking lime green fucking velvet elf costume, that you cannot crack this fucking safe? Is that what you telling me?
Willie: No, I'm just saying it's gonna take a minute.
Gin: We split the dough right down the middle. Any merchendise you take, I get to look at and cherry pick.
Marcus: No. Money is one thing but you ain't getting the sh...
Gin: This ain't no Chinese menu, jagoff! I tell YOU how it's gonna be. This is pricks fix!
Willie: Pricks fix?
Marcus: Ah, he's a fucking moron.
Willie: Oh really? Is that how you got the upper hand?
Marcus: Fuck you.
Marcus: You don't like it? Next year, fuck off. I can always get another box jockey.
Willie: Yeah and I can get another midget too.
Marcus: Yeah? Where? You see us hanging off of fucking trees like fucking crab apples?
Gin: You know what I see when I look at you? America's got a sad future ahead of it.
Willie: Whatcha my mom now? You shat me out of your womb?
Marcus: You said that yesterday, you stupid fuck.
Marcus: You could never front your own racket and do you know why, Willie? Because you got no discipline, you got zero fucking initiative. You'd fall apart without me. You're just too pathetic for words. You're a fuckin' loser and you fuckin' know it.
Bob Chipeska: [about Willie] Can you maybe find out something on this guy?
Gin: Fuck yeah.
Kid: Should I fix you some sandwiches?
Willie: I don't want any fucking sandwiches. What is it with you and fixin' fucking sandwiches?
Willie: Why don't you wish in one hand, and shit in the other. See which one fills up first.
Kid: I wished for a purple elephant, but now I want a pink elephant!
Willie: Well, wish in one hand, shit in the other; see which one fills up first.
Security Guard: Your pants are awful baggy, you got something in there?
Willie: Yea, my dick, you wanna see it?
Security Guard: Keep pushing it, I got my eyes on you.
Willie: You know, I think I've turned a corner.
Marcus: Yeah? You fucking petites now?
Willie: No, I'm not talking about that. I beat the shit out of some kids today. But it was for a purpose. It made me feel good about myself. It was like I did something constructive with my life or something, I dunno, like I accomplished something.
Marcus: You need many years of therapy. Many, many fuckin' years of therapy.
Woman in Food Court: Look who's here! It's Santa! Tell Santa what you want for Christmas!
Willie: [yelling] I'm on my fucking lunch break, OK?
Woman in Food Court: The manager's going to hear about this.
Willie: You think you're a threat? You think you can make my fucking life any worse? Go ahead, take a shot!
Willie: Things are fucked up at the North Pole. Mrs. Claus caught me fucking her sister, now I'm out on my ass.
Willie: Is Granny spry?
[Wille and the kid enter the house]
Kid: Grandma, are you spry?
Grandma: Roger, you're home, let me fix you some sandwiches!
Willie: Are you fucking kidding me?
Willie: [the kid on his lap stares blankly at him] Well, what do you want? Great. Another fucking Mongoloid. Marcus, get this kid off me before he pisses on me, all right? What the fuck are you doing, Don't fuck with my beard.
Kid: Its not real.
Willie: No shit.
Willie: Ya see, it was real, but then Santa got sick and all the hair fell out, so I have to wear this fucking thing
Kid: How did you get sick?
Willie: I loved a woman who wasn't clean.
Kid: Mrs. Santa?
Kid: No, it was her sister
Willie: That's the seven dwarfs!
Willie: You're shittin' me? Fuck, kid; i just call them you know like hey bub or chief, i tell them to make the god dammed toys
Willie: What the fuck is wrong with you? I can't remember this shit. Does everything with you have to be a fucking test?
Kid: How old are they?
Kid: [while Willie is trying to sleep] Want cookies?
Kid: Want milk?
Kid: Want me to fix you some sandwiches?
Willie: What the fuck is it with you and fixin' fuckin' sandwiches?
Marcus: You fuck her?
Willie: Jesus Christ! Is everything fuckin' sex with you?
Marcus: With me? I fuck one person! I ain't out there serial fornicatin', tryin' to float my liver, drinkin' myself silly, cuz I can't stand what a piece of shit I am.
Willie: What are you, Sigmund Sawed-Off Fuckin' Freud?
Marcus: Oh, my. What a darling photo. Are you certain you only want this single? Additional photos come in handy as gifts for grandma and grandpa, or as a wonderful remembrance for friends.
[photo of Santa looking down and young girl looking away]
Milwaukee Mom with Photo: Gee, you know what? This one, I think it's more than enough. Thanks. Merry Christmas...
Kid: Why do you need a car?
Willie: What the fuck are you talking about?
Kid: This car.
Willie: Which turn is it?
Kid: Sage Terrace. Where's your sleigh?
Willie: It's in the shop, getting repaired.
Kid: Where are the reindeer?
Willie: I stabled them. Is it left or right?
Kid: That way. Where's the stable?
Willie: Next to the shop.
Kid: How do they sleep?
Willie: Who? The reindeer? Standing up.
Kid: But the noise. How do they sleep?
Willie: What noise?
Kid: From the shop.
Willie: They only work during the day, all right?
Kid: I thought it was always night at the North Pole.
Willie: Well, not now. Right now it's always day.
Kid: Then how do they sleep?
Willie: Oh, shit. Sage Terrace. What is it with you, anyway? Somebody drop you on your fucking head?
Kid: On *my* head?
Willie: Well, yeah. What, are they gonna drop you on somebody else's head?
Kid: How can they drop me onto my own head?
Willie: No, not *onto* your... Would... God damn it! Are you fucking with me?
Marcus: More booze, more bullshit, more butt-fucking
Willie: Sure, the 3 B's.
Willie: [narrating] I've been to prison once, I've been married - twice. I was once drafted by Lyndon Johnson and had to live in shit-ass Mexico for 2 1/2 years for no reason. I've had my eye socket punched in, a kidney taken out and I got a bone-chip in my ankle that's never gonna heal. I've seen some pretty shitty situations in my life, but nothing has ever sucked more ass than this!
Willie: [from Willie's letter to the kid] Thank you for giving that letter to the cops. I forgot I asked you to do it, but it's a good thing you did or Santa's little helper would have plugged his ass. Now the cop's know I wrote it, whick is gonna keep my ass out of jail. That, plus everyone agreeing that the Phoenix police department shooting an unarmed Santa was even more fucked up than Rodney King.
Marcus: You are by far the dumbest, most pathetic piece of maggot eatin' shit that has every slid from a human being's hairy ass.
Willie: Is that your underwear?
Kid: Part of it.
Willie: Where the hell's the rest of it?
[the kid opens his mouth to speak]
Willie: Actually, don't tell me. I don't want to know. What do you want?
Kid: I was thinking I wanted a purple stuffed elephant, not pink. But now I changed my mind.
Willie: Yeah? What?
Kid: Now I don't want an elephant at all. I want a gorilla named Davy for beating up the skateboard kids who pull on my underwear. And he can take his orders from the talking walnut, so it won't be my bad thing.
[Santa looks at the kid in confusion]
Willie: Jesus, kid. When I was your age, I didn't need no fucking gorilla. And I wasn't as big as one of your legs. Four kids beat me up one time and I went crying home to my daddy. You know what he did?
Kid: He made it all better?
Willie: No, he kicked my ass. You know why?
Kid: Because you went to the bathroom on mommy's dishes?
Willie: What the fuck? No!
Kid: He tried to teach you not to cry and be a man?
Willie: No. It's because he was a mean, drunk, son of a bitch. And when he wasn't busy busting my ass, he was putting cigarettes out on my neck. The world ain't fair. You've gotta take what you need when you can get it. You've gotta learn to stand up for yourself. You have to stop being a pussy and kick these kids in the balls or something.
[the kid stares at Santa]
Willie: Or don't. Shit. I don't care. Just leave me the hell out of it.
Kid: Okay. Thanks Santa.
Willie: What do you want?
Fraggle-Stick Boy: Fraggle-Stick car.
Willie: What the fuck is that?
Fraggle-Stick Boy: Fraggle-Stick car.
Willie: Well I heard you. Fraggle-Stick car. Fine.
Kid: What's the North Pole like?
Willie: It's like a suburb.
Kid: Which suburb?
Willie: Apache Junction. What the fuck do you care? Now get off my lap you sit there like a fuckin retard.
Kid: You're bringing my present early?
Kid: But I never told you what I wanted.
Willie: I said I didn't bring it, dipshit.
Skateboard Bully: Hey, loser. I hear your buddy's not here to protect you any more. See ya got me a new bike. Thanks a lot. I'm talking to you, fat-ass.
[kicks bully in the balls]
[from the unrated cut]
Security Guard: You wouldn't be tryin' to hide something in those baggy pants of yours, would ya?
Willie: Just something to cripple your sister with...
Willie: [Willie is being held up by the Security Guard] The hell's wrong with you? I'm trying to fucking leave here.
Milwaukee Security Guard: Pants are awful baggy. You got anything in there?
Willie: Yeah, my dick. You wanna see it?
Willie: [to Marcus] Why don't you get going? You'll be late for your... Wizard of Oz Candy Bar Guild.
Marcus: Lollipop Guild, you asshole. Jesus! Two-year-olds flip me better shit than you.
Willie: You saying something to me?
Marcus: Yeah, I'm gonna stick my whole fist up your ass!
Willie: [gives Marcus the finger as he walks away]
Willie: [Willie is being held up by the Securtiy Guard] What are you doing asshole? I'm trying to fucking leave here.
Milwaukee Security Guard: Pants are awfully baggy.
Milwaukee Security Guard: You wouldn't be trying to steal nothing would ya?
Willie: You're an asshole, did you know that?
Marcus: [after seeing Willie dry-humping a young girl playing pinball] That's just the kind of shit that's gonna get us pinched.
Willie: She said she was 18.
Marcus: But you promised no arcades! You said you'd only hustle Big and Tall.
Willie: What, you shat me outta your womb? You're my fucking mom now? I don't need any god damn lectures outta you. I know how to keep a low profile, thank you.
[Willie turns off the alarm on a stolen BMW automobile]
Marcus: What the *fuck* is this, Mr. Low Profile?
Willie: Mind your own god damn business.
[He opens the car and a pile of empty beer bottles and cans fall out, then starts the car and drives away, shattering several beer bottles]
Marcus: [shouting] Ever hear of the Open Bottle Law?
Willie: [to the Kid after asking about the Elves names]
Willie: What the fuck is wrong with you? I can't remember this shit. Does everything with you gotta be a fuckin test?
Kid: How old are they?
Police Chief: Drop the gun!
Police Chief: And you, Santa, drop the elephant!
Marcus: How did you get here?
Police Chief: Tipped off.
Willie: Oh, shit, that fucking kid!
Police Chief: All three of you are in so much shit, it's almost unbelievable.
Willie: Is daddy home?
Kid: He's on an adventure, exploring the mountains. He's been gone a long time.
Willie: Exploring mountains, huh? How long is he gonna be gone?
Kid: Until next year.
Willie: Yeah? What about mommy?
Kid: She lives in God's house; with Jesus and Mary and the ghost and the long eared donkey and the talking walnut.
Willie: Well, who the fuck takes care of you then?
Willie: Yeah, what's her name?
Willie: Is she spry?
[Unrated Version and Director's Cut]
[after crushing Gin between the two cars]
Marcus: Oh, my. What a terrible accident. Mm-mm-mm...
[waiting to ambush Gin]
Marcus: There he is. That lousy, leather-faced, frog-eyed motherfucker.
Willie: Bet the store dick don't want this.
Marcus: Store dick don't want shit. Store dick's dead.
Kid: OW... OW... OW... I cut my hand, by mistake OW... OW... OW...
Kid: You are really Santa, right?
Willie: No, I'm an accountant. I wear this fucking thing as a fashion statement, alright?
Kid: What are their names?
Kid: The Elves.
Willie: Shit, I can't remember, I think one of them is Sneezy and there's a Dopey...
Kid: That's the seven dwarfs!
Willie: You're shittin' me? I thought... I was thinking there was a... I don't know! Fuck, kid; I just call them you know Bub, I call them... I say hey Bub or Chief or whatever the fuck, I tell them to make the god dammed toys.
Willie: What the FUCK is wrong with you? I can't remember this shit. Does everything with you have to be a fucking test?
Kid: How old are they?