Osama bin Laden: Uwe Boll may be an infidel, but he made a very funny film.
Dude: I will do whatever it takes to get the fuck out of Paradise! Anything! Anything!
Uncle Dave: Ok. Take me up the ass.
Uncle Dave: Just kidding!
Richard: [on the walkietalkie] This is Anne Frank. Hitler 2, come in.
Official Licenced Krotchy Doll: Only my father and my priest are allowed to touch me there!
Vince Desiderio: [takes out a gun and aims at Uwe Boll] For Video-games!
Verne Troyer: I can't believe I took this fucking job...
Uncle Dave: [after kissing Richard] Fuck me! I'm fuckin' gay!
Vince Desiderio: [takes off the head from his Krotchy costume] Boll, I'm Vince Desi. What the fuck did you do to my game "Postal"?
Uwe Boll: I don't know what your fucking problem is. The movie is great!
Super-Impose: Vincent James Desiderio, Jr. Creator of POSTAL Video Game.
Vince Desiderio: [attacks Uwe Boll]
[as the Postal Dude flees from the Mob he arrives Habib's Lucky Ganesh where Habib and Nassira are cleaning the windows and jaywalk from Candidate Wells' blood]
Dude: Shit! Shit!
[points to the mob as he hides behind the door]
Mob Leader: Follow me! I know where he is!
[Habib points into the store]
[runs into the store and hides behind the counter]
Mob Leader: Hey, what direction did he go?
[Habib points to the street]
Mob Leader: That way!
[runs with the rest of the mob into the direction Habib showed him]
Nassira: Why did you help him?
Habib: Do you want to clean the windows again?
Official Licensed Krotchy Doll: What happens up my ass, stays up my ass.
Officer Greg: [Officers Greg and John are held up in traffic with a Chinese woman in front of them as the light turns from green to yellow] Come on, bitch!
Officer Greg: She could of made the fucking light, man.
Officier John: Maybe she forgot her "glass".
Officer Greg: [in disbelief] Did you say "glass"?
Officier John: Yes.
Officer Greg: Did you say "glass", you Frankfurt-eating motherfucker? I buy all those god damn English tapes for you to say fucking "glass"? It's GLASSES! Man, you fuckin' foreigners come over here, you fuck up the language, and THIS BITCH IS FUCKIN' UP THE TRAFFIC!
Officier John: Calm down, Greg!
Officer Greg: YOU fuckin' calm down! This flat-ass bitch comes over here, takes over the convenient stores, and they eat up all our god damn DOGS!
Officier John: Go and help her. Come on.
Officer Greg: [calms down] You're right... sorry, man... I'll just get out of the car and make sure she's doin' okay.
[as he's stepping out]
Officer Greg: She's an old lady... I feel bad now.
[Greg approaches the car and the old lady begins to yell in a somewhat panicked matter]
Officer Greg: Hey, the light is green.
[the old lady is still yelling]
Officer Greg: The light is green! You could of went through the light!
[as the old lady is still yelling, Greg mishears one of her words as a racial slur]
Officer Greg: What did you say?
Officer Greg: What did you say, bitch?
[then, Greg blows the old lady's brains out and walks back to the car]
Officer Greg: Man...
Officier John: What happened over there?
Officer Greg: Bitch called me "nigger".
Uncle Dave: All in all this has really not been a very pleasant day.
Uncle Dave: Today we're doing god work. So get in there and give those boys a god-job.
Osama bin Laden: Write me up an e-mail, tell me what pipe you're talkin' about and I'll blow it all the way to Mecca.
George W. Bush: I really appreciate it. I'll ask Laura to type that out. You know me and spelling and all...
Osama bin Laden: Later...
[hangs up; to Taliban]
Osama bin Laden: Jihad!
Osama bin Laden: I'm telling you, Mohammed, I've seen that gas station before. We're lost.
Mohammed: We're not lost. All gas stations look alike in this country. What is wrong with you?
Osama bin Laden: Would you just stop to ask for directions?
Mohammed: Would you get off my back? I'm doing the best I can, okay?
Osama bin Laden: I should be driving.
Mohammed: Oh, so you can do everything around here, huh? Be the head of an organization and also be the driver? What is wrong with you?
Uwe Boll: There all that rumours out there, that my movies are financed with nazi-gold, and what should I say? It's true!
Verne Troyer: Get out of the way!
[pushes a kid away before punching the other kid in the groin]
Super-Impose: Gluttco Inc. World's Leading Glutt Producer.
Osama bin Laden: I'm gonna go watch Oprah.
Mohammed: [as Osama is leaving] She's looking good these days. The diet is working!
Super-Impose: Habib's Lucky Ganesh. Secret Taliban Hideout.
Osama bin Laden: [on the walkie-talkie] The fat man is at the buffet.
Osama bin Laden: I repeat: the fat man is at the buffet.
Mohammed: What the fuck are you talking about?
Osama bin Laden: The van is here you idiot.
Officer Greg: Citizens of this great nation... town. Watch out for this psychopathic deranged killer also known as...
Officier John: [whispers to Greg] Postal Dude.
Officer Greg: Postal Dude.
[mutters to John]
Officer Greg: Is that the best you could come up with?
Officer Greg: Postal Dude! He's wanted for kidnapping, a shootout at the social welfare office, the assassination of Candidate Wells...
Officier John: [whispers to Greg] And the killing of a Chinese woman.
Officer Greg: And he killed a poor, innocent, old Chinese lady. If you have seen him...
Dude: Ever had one of those days?
Mob Member: No.
[looks at the Postal Dude]
Mob Member: Hey! Hey! It's the Postal Dude!
Dude: Get away!
Mob Member: [to the Mob] After him!
Officer Greg: [looks at the Postal Dude's picture were he got long hair] No, that's not him. Do you see his hair at the sides? This guy looks like Jesus.
Mohammed: Where are the fucking keys? They gotta be somewhere.
Osama bin Laden: I thought you had the keys?
Mohammed: [searches for the keys in his clothes] You know, sometimes it helps recreating your steps.
Osama bin Laden: [finds the keys in his clothes] Mohammed!
Mohammed: It's unfortunate that the desperate nature of our situation forces one of us to hug the martyrdom once more to fight and defeat the infidels. Well, who of us will have the honor today?
Taliban: How about you, Mohammed? You are more than worthy!
Mohammed: Oh, thank you. Thank you very much. And I would like to do it. I would like to do it, believe me. Nobody in the world would like to do it more than me. But unfortunately Osama has forbid it me.
Taliban: How about Abdul?
[points to the retarted Taliban]
Mohammed: Ah, a good idea. A very good idea. Genius! But of course he has to agree. So... Abdul, if you don't want to be blown into tiny little pieces, hold up your hand, hop on one foot and sing "Freebird".
Retarded Taliban: Uh... uh...
Mohammed: Abdul, it is!
[the other Talibans applaud]
Retarded Taliban: Uh...?
Mohammed: Now, if we just had Osama. Does anyone know where the fuck he is?
Dude: I have to destroy a postal truck filled with lethal microbes before a doomsday cult or a terrorist groups gets their hands on it and destroys the entire world.
Faith: Yeah, why I gotta believe that?
Taliban: [at the same time as the D.O.O.M. member] Jihad!
D.O.O.M. member: [at the same time as the Taliban] Apocalypse!
[Dude fastly pulls out a second gun and kills both on the spot]
Faith: Okay, so where's that truck?
Blither: [his last lines]
[on the phone]
Blither: I want you to get on the phone with the publishers and tell them why everybody should buy my book: How to fire an employee without making them go postal.
[a burning van falls on him]
Osama Bin Ladin: Allah be praised! Now has come the time to sacrafice your lives to avenge this outrage!
Mohammed: Or... we could just kill... the other guys! Yeah!
Other Talibans: Yeah!
[the other Talibans shoot through the roof of the car with their machine guns]
Dude: Where did you get all those monkeys?
Uncle Dave: I don't fucking know. I have nothing to do with this shit.
Reporter Gayle: [ater pulling all the killed children on one spot so she can stand in the middle] Gary, wait.
Reporter Gayle: [putting some drops into her eyes so it looks like she is crying] Ok, roll it Gary. Make me a star.
[sad music begins to play]
Reporter Gayle: This is Gayle Ravinson reporting live from Little Germany Theme Park or what will forever be known as "The place were the laughter died". Celebrity icon Verne Troyer is currently missing or presumed dead. The coward responsible for this massacre has been described as a rodent-like man with red hair and wearing a peace t-shirt. Back to you Bob. Oh, thats right - You're dead... these kids are starting to smell!
[after knocking out a criminal and punching him on the ground]
Security Guard #1: I need backup!
Osama bin Laden: They're not listening to me anymore, Mohammed. I tell them about Allah and glory and what do I get? What do i get all the damn time?
Osama bin Laden: Dingdingdingdingdingding! Nobody wants to die anymore unless they get virgins.
Candidate Wells: [in front of Habib's Lucky Ganesh] George W. Bush is a sham. He's an actor. That's not even his real name!
Mohammed: [confronting Habib inside Habib's Lucky Ganesh] He knows too much!
Azeem: [walking through Habib's Lucky Ganesh wearing an explosive belt] Goodbye Heaven Tarts, Sugar Logs, Powdered Flakes, Sugar Sweetie O's...
Azeem: [standing next to the exit] Farewell slimline caramel ice cream.
Azeem: [heading towards Candidate Wells] Allah!
[Azeem hugs Candidate Wells and his belt explodes]
Dude: Oh ho ho! It's the moo-cow from the welfare office!
Dude: Sorry, we're closed... BITCH!
[the Postal Dude runs her over and she gets thrown on the other side of the street where she gets hit by another car which throws her back where she gets hit by a police car which stops immediately]
Officier John: What was that?
Officer Greg: [gets out of the car and takes a look] I thought we had a flat... but we just ran over some girl. Whew, Thank God...
[Takes out walkie-talkie]
Officer Greg: I got a dead body on Maple...
[When asked to repeat the location]
Officer Greg: Maple, like the syrup.
Mob Leader: Did you see the Postal Dude?
[looking for the Postal Dude while not looking at the person he talks to]
Dude: [wearing a police uniform and disguising his voice] Yeah, yeah. He went this way.
[points into the opposite direction the Mob came from]
Mob Leader: Good. United Citizens, let's get that motherucker.
[the Mobs runs away without one person looking at the Postal Dude]
Candidate Wells: And NASA, the National Aeronautics and Space Administration, does not exist. All the space missions we were told about since we were little kids in school: Creations of Hollywood! We never landed on the moon. There is no John Glenn.
Election Poster: F.U.P the Fuck U Party. Bend over & vote.
Osama Bin Ladin: George, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.
Asif: Congratulations, Nabi. We are at the doorstep of our martyrdom.
Nabi: Praise Allah.
Asif: Praise him! Soon, we will be greeted by Allah, the one true god... and by the cheers of our Four Fathers... and by ninety-nine perfect virgins who will worship us... for ALL eternity!
Nabi: [pause] I thought it was one hundred.
Asif: What's that?
Nabi: One hundred virgins. They promised me one hundred.
Asif: Ninety-nine, one hundred. What's the difference?
Nabi: If they're telling you one thing and they're telling me another, maybe they don't know for sure.
Asif: Maybe... maybe the exact number of virgins is not precise.
Nabi: I mean, if it's in the nineties, I can live with that.
Asif: Or seventy-five.
Nabi: And hey, I'm not greedy, but what if it's ten?
Asif: [pause] Well...
Nabi: What if it's ten, but we had to split them between us?
Asif: [smiles] Then you'd have five more virgins than you have right now, right?
Nabi: [serious] We're talking about ETERNITY here! How long will five virgins last you? Maybe a month? But they're not going to be virgins for long, right?
Asif: [pause] Look, would it make it feel better if we called the big guy?
Asif: Take this, then.
[Nabi grabs hold of the steering wheel as Asif calls Osama]
Asif: It's ringing... Osama, yes, it's Asif... No, we're on it... eh, it's fine, but security, it takes forever, you know.
Asif: What are you going to do? Anyway, look, Nabi has a question. Will you talk to him?
Nabi: [Quietly] No! You talk to him!
[sighs and grabs the phone]
Nabi: Hello! Yes... uh, it's about the virgins... really? It was one hundred when I signed up!
[groans, then to Asif]
Nabi: He says not that many anymore! Too many martyrs and not enough virgins to go around!
Asif: You've got to be kidding! Does he know where we are here? Give me the phone!
[Nabi hands over phone]
Asif: Osama, Asif. Right now, can you tell me the number, absolutely, you can guarantee, Nabi and myself, as far as virgins are concerned?
[pause; gets a shocked look]
Asif: No, that's fine.
[hangs up; to Nabi]
Asif: We can't get anymore than twenty!
[Both are disappointed; long pause as the passengers are briefly heard banging on the cockpit door]
Asif: Screw this, right?
Nabi: I'm glad you said it first!
Asif: Okay, get on the intercom and tell them, "Passengers, we are changing course for the Bahamas!"
Nabi: [Screaming with joy] BAHAMAS!
[Suddenly, the passengers break in and overwhelm Asif and Nabi]
Nabi: [We then see a window washer on the World Trade Center as the plane comes crashing into the building and the window washer]
[Title Card; POSTAL]
Richard: [about the terrorists] They only want to spread the flu in the United States. So, in order to fufil the prophecy in Dave's bible, we must wipe out the entire planet... WHICH brings us to you, Mr. Verne Troyer!
Verne Troyer: [to Uncle Dave] If he wrote anything about me in that book, you and I are gonna have a serious problem!
Richard: [Reading from Dave's Bible] And you shall know that the final day of reckoning will be at hand because on that day, a tiny entertainer will be RAPED by A THOUSAND MONKEYS!
Verne Troyer: That's it! I'm gonna kick your fucking ass!
Uncle Dave: [regretfully] I'm so sorry, but-
[gets attacked by Verne Troyer]
Richard: [as the Babes are restraining Verne] No! Stop him! Stop him! We must do as God commands! BRING ON THE MONKEYS!
Verne Troyer: [Verne Troyer is about to get raped by monkeys] Oh! Not the monkeys!
Dude: Where did you get all those monkeys?
Uncle Dave: I don't fuckin' know. I got nothing to do with this shit.
Verne Troyer: [Verne gets locked in with the monkeys and starts getting raped] Don't get me into style, please!
Uncle Dave: All in all, though, this has not been a very pleasant day.
[a woman walks by]
Peter: Wow! Did you see that?
Peter: One date with me and she'll look like she's been hit with a mayonnaise truck!
Sign on door to Taliban hide-out: No entry to infidels!
Candidate Wells: All 3000 people who died in the World Trade Center attack were not heroes. They were bankers! People who would like nothing stand in the way of making a quick buck. Why are they heroes? Because they died? What about the 17 million Africans and Arabs who have died in civil wars since 9/11? Is a life only of value if the media are interested in reporting it?
Candidate Wells: And you, good sir. How many of your people have died in the Iraq war?
Habib: Please, sir. I just want some peace. So leave!
Candidate Wells: Now that's a citizen I like! A perfect candidate for a Fuck You!
Habib: [Offended] Fuck me? FUCK YOU!
Candidate Wells: Thank you!
Habib: YOU'RE WELCOME!
[Storms off in the store]
Candidate Wells: Now that's the spirit I like and THAT'S the way of the Fuck You Party!
Officier John: Greg, I've been doing a lot of research about American Morality. I'm not sure you're doing the right thing with Harry here.
Officer Greg: Harry? You know how I met Harry? Me and my dog were hiking in the hills and this fool comes riding down the hill on his bicycle, hits my dog, flies over the handlebars and breaks his neck.
Officier John: So you took him to the hospital?
Officer Greg: I took my dog to the hospital. Harry? I threw him in the truck and took him home. I mean the motherfucker almost killed my dog.
Officier John: Hm...
Officer Greg: Three days later I came back and Harry was still alive. We've been business-partners ever since. Oh, Harry, it's time to go to work.
Uwe Boll: You know, there're all that rumors out there that my movies are financed with nazi-gold? And what should I say? It's true! But somebody needs to do something with the money.
Old Lady in Audience: Do you know that my father died in Auschwitz?
Uwe Boll: My grandpa died also in Auschwitz.
Uwe Boll: [pause] He fell from a watchtower.
Uwe Boll: [laughs with Harald] Harald, ok, take her away.
[Harald, the ass-kissing employee, takes the old lady away while Bob, the morning show host, shows that he feels uncomfortable sitting next to Uwe Boll]
Uwe Boll: Something wrong, Bob?
Uwe Boll: I get a little horny on here on stage sometimes. If you see the crowd and all that children.
Morning show host Bob: Are you fucking kidding me?
Paul: I knew this one girl that thought sperm was medicine. All she wanted to do was suck cock. Then she got 3 little children. So she used to put sperm into their bottles to build up their immune system. They all got AIDS.
Officer Greg: Oh oh, watch this. Say "Will work for food" in German.
Harry the Wheelchair Guy: Uh...
Officer Greg: You're the shit.
Uwe Boll: I am also happy to have today here Verne Troyer, the star of my next movie.
Morning show host Bob: That's right. And your press release says that this film is a new paradigm of cinema. An epic romance that outstrips stories from the past, present and future. A fairy tale that only the heart can understand. That sounds amazing, what's it called?
Uwe Boll: Pong.
Panhandler: [See's Dude walking by] Hey, yo, pal! Come here! Help me out with a few bucks.
Dude: I don't... I don't have any money.
[starts to walk away]
Panhandler: No, I'm serious! I need a few bucks to take a bus ride to see my kids!
Dude: [Stuttering] I don- I don't ha- I'm sorry. I don't have any money!
[Starts to walk away again]
Panhandler: Hey, get over here! Come here! Come here! COME HERE!
[Dude turns around]
Panhandler: Get the fuck outta here! I'm sick and tired of people like you! You got a good job! You got a big car! You got everything and I got nothing! Well, fuck you! And fuck anybody that even LOOKS like you! Get the fuck outta here!
[Dude runs away]
Panhandler: Fuckin' knock you out, pal!
Uncle Dave: Ritchie, am I the only one who doesn't know of a fuckin' bomb shelter in my room?
Richard: It's not a bomb shelter, Uncle Dave.
Richard: It's a God shelter!
Super-Impose: Paradise Winds Trailer Park: Birthplace of Axl Rose
Speaker: [as Osama and Mohammed run away] Freakin' Arabs! Go back to Mecca and run around your big black box!
Cooter: [noticing the dog poo in Dude's yard] Feces in the yard. That's a violation of trailer park ordinance #101-40.
Dude: [to Dude's dog as it's eating the poop he's scraping off] Stop eating the poop!
Cooter: I'll add that to the list.
Dude: Oh, the list? Oh, great! What else? What else you got on the list?
Cooter: Ordinance #143-11; yesterday around lunchtime. Now, I don't care what you two do in your own bedroom, but ordinance #143-11 says if I hear your nude love making after 10 AM, I get to file grievance against your sorry ass which is exactly what I'm gonna do!
Dude: Oh, oh, okay! Well, at least I wasn't born from my sister, you inbred hick! Oh, and for your information, hillbilly, I wasn't even here yesterday afternoon!
Dude: I hate this town...
Security Guard #1: [while punching an unconscious man with the help of two other security guards] More fucking backup!
Cooter: [Dude just walked into Bitch and Cooter having sex] Oh, hey there, neighbor! Looks like I don't have to file that grievance after all, huh?
[Grabs a bag of flour]
Cooter: You gotta find the wet spot!
Uncle Dave: [Opening speech to his cult] Welcome to the Denomination of Organic Monotheism! I welcome you all to your first step of freedom by completing your training program. Obviously, you have all come to the conclusion that the American dream is not a dream for you. In fact, it is a nightmare!
Uncle Dave: A nightmare that soon will be engulfed in the all-encompassing flames of God's Damnation!
[members cheer again]
Uncle Dave: Pious people in the house say "Oh!"
[Members shout "Oh!"]
Uncle Dave: Who loves God? We do!
[Scene cuts to Uncle Dave laying naked in bed with a bunch of women]
Uncle Dave: When was the last time I saw you?
Dude: Bachelor party. The night before the wedding.
Uncle Dave: Oh, fuck yeah, that was fun! I wonder if that donkey survived.
Bitch: [Dude is watching T.V. while browsing ties for an interview] Turn down that fuckin' T.V.! Can't hear my show!
Dude: [Turns off T.V] Yeah, nothing's good on, anyways. Just, uh, just preparing for my interview.
[Throws piece of chicken a Dude]
Bitch: Aw, you fight like a pussy! No one's gonna hire your sorry ass! Why don't you just stick up to your Uncle Dave already?
Dude: [Drinks a carton of milk, gets a disgusted look, and throws up in a pan] God Dammit!
Bitch: What the hell is goin' on out there?
Dude: [Stuttering] Nothing!
Peter: [as the Postal Dude is walking by] Speaking of freaky shit, have you seen that guy's wife?
Paul: Yeah, she's hard to miss.
Peter: She's a good fuck though.
Paul: You fucked her?
Peter: Several times! She's got a clapper in her trailer. The lights go on and off and on and off!
Peter: Makes you feel like a rock star!
Paul: Let's go to the trailer!
Dude: [Holding up a detonator while everyone is shooting at him] Bomb!
Dude: Big bomb-that-could-take-out-a-whole-city-block bomb!
Dude: Do I have your attention?
Dude: What's wrong with you people? You're all busy trying to blow up the world in the name of God! Newsflash, fucktards: God doesn't need your help! He's GOD!
[Patriotic music plays]
Dude: And He... She... It... They gave you life... and you're wasting it! Look around you. Look.
Dude: Look, god damn it!
[everyone looks at each other]
Dude: See? We're not that different. That's because we all come from the same family called "Humanity". And what do families do? Do they fight? Yeah, but they work it out. That's because they love each other... and that they know they're stuck with each other. Just like how we all are. Here on this big crazy mudball we call Earth. So come on, guys! Let's try to find some common ground here.
Richard: Uh, well... we all hate Jews!
Mohammed: [Everyone seems to agree]
[to a Taliban]
Mohammed: Everybody knows that.
Dude: No, not a hate thing!
[Everyone groans in disappointment]
Dude: A happy thing! I think it's time to empty our hands of guns and fill them... with hugs.
[Everyone starts crying and holding hands]
Dude: If you want to waste this precious gift we call life, I can't stop you. So, go ahead: Shoot... or
[spreads arms out]
Mohammed: [Nods] Shoot him.
Dude: [Everyone opens fire at Dude who goes back behind the car] YOU MOTHERFUCKERS!
Ass-Kissing Employee: [Carrying Verne Troyer's luggage] I could not possibly tell you how unbelievably sorry we are. I promise to take full responsibility of this mishap, Mr. Verne Troyer.
Verne Troyer: I don't want you fired, I want your fucking boss fired!
Verne Troyer: Where's my money, asswipe?
Uwe Boll: I have even better: Gold teeth.
Dude: [singing the Gluttco Company Fight Song in a job interview] It's not a flag, it's a company / A high-flying company / And it will cheerfully work you to death / By the time you are old / The pension is sold / And your cube will be your casket / It's a company, a high-flying company / Now please, get back to work.
Uncle Dave: [to Dude] You know, it's funny. All of these fuckin' idiots are calling me Uncle Dave and here I am actually "your" Uncle Dave.
Blither: [Dude has just seen the decapitated heads on some spikes] I see you noticed the heads. Motivational. Those are every fucking bastard I had to climb over to get this job.
Dude: [Shocked] Jesus...
Blither: [laughs] Foul. They're paper mache. Heh-
Blither: He thought they were real.
[chuckles; then, to Dude]
Blither: Sit down.
[Dude sits down as he notices one of the 'fake heads' bleeding]
Blither: Let's get started. Now, I hope you don't mind the recording. We're gonna use it as training later.
[Dude is struggling to sit straight on a seemingly broken chair as Blither is telling him this]
Blither: What the fuck is wrong with you?
Dude: Uh, it's, uh, the chair is...
Blither: [Interrupting] Alright, we're on a time clock. So let's get started, alright?
Dude: Alright. Well... so, uh, I'm here for the job, sir.
Blither: [looking through Dude's resume] Right, you're a factory worker.
Dude: I WAS a factory worker, but the factory got closed down. So, I got laid off.
Blither: I have interviewed fifteen other people for this job. What makes you think you're better than them?
Dude: Well, I don't know if I am better than them...
Blither: Well, god damn it, pal! If you want this job, you better reach out and grab it! You better put those fucking heads on the wall!
Blither: You know what? Fuck it, let's go to questions.
Recorder: What is your greatest strength?
Dude: Uh... I'm a really good team player.
[Types for a while]
Recorder: What is your greatest weakness?
Dude: Uh, I'd say I work too hard.
Recorder: How would you move a mountain using only a spoon?
Dude: A spoon?
Recorder: If you were in a box, how would you think outside it?
[Dude starts to think of an answer]
Recorder: Last question: What is the difference between a duck?
Dude: [Long awkward pause] And...
[Another pause; Dude is waiting for more to the question, but nothing. Then, Dude stands up in frustration]
Dude: What the hell is wrong with you people? A wha- a duck? I don- I came here for a job! A JOB! As far as I know, that job has nothing to do with a cocksucking, motherfucking DUCK!
Blither: [after a long pause] Congratulations, pal. You're our leading candidate. How does it feel?
Dude: [Surprised] It feels good?
Blither: No, no, no. How does it feel, huh? How does it feel? I mean, how does it feel to put fucking fifteen heads on that wall? I'll tell you how it feels! It feels fucking great, doesn't it? It feels fucking great.
[Starts making pelvic thrusts]
Dude: [Excited] So, I got it! I got the job!
Blither: Oh, hell no. No, no, no, this is just a getting-to-know-you interview. We still have some more, uh, one hundred and twenty? Yeah, some more candidates, but hell of a start, though.