Tripper: Attention. Here's an update on tonight's dinner. It was veal. I repeat, veal. The winner of tonight's mystery meat contest is Jeffrey Corbin who guessed "some kind of beef."
Tripper: And even if we win, if we win, HAH! Even if we win! Even if we play so far above our heads that our noses bleed for a week to ten days; even if God in Heaven above comes down and points his hand at our side of the field; even if every man woman and child held hands together and prayed for us to win, it just wouldn't matter because all the really good looking girls would still go out with the guys from Mohawk because they've got all the money! It just doesn't matter if we win or we lose. IT JUST DOESN'T MATTER!
Rest of group: IT JUST DOESN'T MATTER! IT JUST DOESN'T MATTER...
Tripper: You must be the short depressed kid we ordered.
Tripper: [entering party] Alright, virgins to the left, non-virgins to the right.
[to Crocket and Wheels]
Tripper: You guys split 'em up however you want.
Tripper: Important announcement - Some hunters have been seen in the woods near Piney Ridge trail and the fish and game commission has raised the legal kill limit on campers to three. So, if you're hiking today, please wear something bright and keep low.
Tripper: But, the real excitement of course is going to come at the end of the summer, during Sexual Awareness week. We import two hundred hookers from around the world, and each camper, armed with only a thermos of coffee and two thousand dollars cash, tries to visit as many countries as he can. The winner of course is named King of Sexual Awareness week and is allowed to rape and pillage the neighboring towns until camp ends.
CITs: [sung] We are the C.I.T.s so pity us. / The kids are brats; the food is hideous. / We're gonna smoke and drink and fool around. / We're nookie-bound!... / We are the North Star C.I.T.s!
Tripper: [over P.A] Attention campers, afternoon swim schedule is as follows. Advanced dolphins, report to the dock for survival swimming and I.Q. testing. All senior silverfish, meet on the beach for nude sunbathing. All junior salmon, trout, and herring, report to the nearest delicatessen. And 6-year-old tadpoles, report to the swamp. And all lobsters, GET OUT OF HERE! YOU'RE A MENACE!
Wendy: Tripper, I'm looking forward to some action this summer. I hope you can supply it.
Tripper: I'll supply it for you, but the guy you gotta watch out for is Spaz!
Tripper: He's a sex machine.
Wendy: He couldn't wake me up with a trumpet and a drum!
Tripper: Well I went out with him one night and he got off six nurses by himself, and four of them couldn't report to work the next morning!
Tripper: Mmmmm. Look at all those steaming wieners. Do you know what they're saying? They're saying, "This is the year that Fink beats 'The Stomach'."
[Fink picks up a hot dog and holds it to his ear]
Tripper: No, it's a couple of them over here... but they're saying it.
Tripper: Kids are starving in India and you're walking around with a sombrero full of peanuts.
Rudy: I saw you dancing with Roxanne.
Tripper: Oh yeah? Well, she sort'a cornered me and there was nothing I could do without embarrassing her.
Rudy: Do you like her?
Tripper: Well I feel sorry for her, you know. She's got a glass eye. And, uh, I'm one of the few people who knows exactly which eye to look at when they're talking to her, so she's sort of fixated on me.
Rudy: Well, I like her.
Tripper: Well you're not exactly known for your taste. I'll probably just use her for the rest of the summer and then throw her on the scrap heap with all the rest of the women that I've destroyed.
Tripper: Roxanne, I have what doctors call "very active glands." You're the first person I've told, my folks don't even know.
Roxanne: Well, maybe you can have surgery without them knowing.
Tripper: Awww, heck with surgery! Let's wrestle!
Spaz: [tries to be super cool] What's cookin' good lookin'?
Girl Camper: Your fly's undone.
Tripper: Hey, Spaz, I was watchin' you out there. Looked like you had a chance there for a second.
Spaz: [still struggling with his zip] Thanks.
Tripper: [Giving the CITs a tour] Alright, this is the 14 year old girl's cabin. They have the drive and the equipment, but they don't have the experience. They better not get from you guys. Not this summer, anyway, huh?
Tripper: [with the CITs around a camp fire] It's a weird moon. The moon kills, you know. It feeds off the earth. On a night like this, one of us could get up in the middle of the night, grab an ax, and cut somebody's head off. I remember a night like this, a few years ago. A guy and a girl went out driving. It was one of their first dates. It started out kind of casual, but they ended up deciding to go park, not too far from here, as a matter of fact. While they're going at it, listening to the radio, all of a sudden, a news bulletin broke in: "A dangerous lunatic has escaped from the hospital for the criminally insane at Two Pines." They described him as a monster, six-and-a-half-feet tall, with one horrible distinguishing feature, a sharpened stainless-steel hook where his right hand used to be! That was enough for the guy. He slammed the car into gear, floored it, bounced off a tree, didn't stop till they got to the girl's house. Got out of his side, walked around to hers. There, hanging in the door, covered with blood - was a stainless-steel hook! The strangest part, is that after all these years, after the biggest manhunt in Two Pines' history, they never found the killer. Some people say he's still up here in the woods, waiting for the chance to kill again. And I say... I say they're right!
[Trip sticks a hook out of his sleeve. Everyone screams]
Tripper: [dancing together] Is that a bra you're wearing, or are you expecting an assassination attempt?
Roxanne: Are those Clorets in your pocket or are you just glad to see me?
Tripper: OK, we're even. 3 years of this. I don't think I have many lines left. Frankly, Roxanne, I'm frightened.
Roxanne: Oh, no. Don't go human on me now, Tripper.
Tripper: Ok, the zone's not working. They're a little too big to play man-to-man. And we can't shoot for shit.
Tripper: [on loudspeaker] Attention all campers, it's 9:30... and that's lights-out time here at Camp Northstar, 9:30 as you know. Tomorrow is parents day, and you must look rested or Morty will be sent to the state penitentiary.
Tripper: I'm takin' the C.I.T.s on an overnight for the next couple days so you're gonna have to do your own training, son. I want you to run two miles today and two and a half tomorrow.
Rudy: I've never run that far.
Tripper: Neither have I but somebody's gotta do it. I can't be expected to do it. Somebody's gotta do it, and it can't be me. Because I'm too busy. I've responsibilities. I'm the entertainment director for the overnight.
[Holds up a bottle of wine]
Rudy: I'm going away.
Tripper: You goin' to Vegas? If you're going to Vegas, I would be up for it because I love that town. I'm a party guy. I love that town.
Rudy: I don't think they want me around.
Tripper: You talkin' about the soccer heads back there?
Tripper: Well, that's life in the fast-paced slam-bang, live-on-the-razor's-edge, laugh-in-the-face-of-death world of junior league soccer.
Tripper: What's the matter? You're pacing like an expectant father with the clap.
Larry Finkelstein: [talking about Spaz and Jackie] How did you make out?
Spaz: Well, we just kind of talked.
Larry Finkelstein: You had her in the woods and you just talked? You didn't do anything. YOU DIDN'T DO ANYTHING.
Spaz: I, um, held her hand when we walked home.
Larry Finkelstein: Held her hand? Spaz, you're on your way! Held her hand. In the woods! And it was dark!
Cheerleaders: Death, injury, blood & brains.
Spaz: [muffled] I'm getting a boner!
Larry Finkelstein: What?
[removes his hand covering Spaz's mouth]
Spaz: I SAID I'M GETTING A BONER!
Crockett: [in motorboat, Candace has admitted she likes Crockett] What about Lance Cashman? Yeah, Lance!
Candace: [passing Lance on the dock] Lance Cashman? Lance Cashman is a TOTAL JERK-OFF!
Crockett: Allright! She likes me! She likes me!
Lance: [to himself] Jerk off? I don't jerk off...
Roxanne: [Tripper has proposed that they live together after the summer] Where would I stay?
Tripper: My place, what do you think?
Roxanne: Is it big enough?
Tripper: It's *got* a *double bed.* What's the matter with you, haven't you ever lived with anybody before?
Roxanne: No. Have you?
Tripper: Pets, you know, a dog, a fish. No, I haven't. I've never asked anybody before.
Tripper: Over loudspeaker... Attention, here's an update on tonight's dinner... It was veal. I repeat, veal. The winner of tonigh'ts mystery meat contest is Jeffrey Corbin, who guessed, 'some kind of beef'.