Kindergarten Cop (1990)
Low Life #1: So who are you, man?
[Kimble racks his shot-gun]
Low Life #1: Shit!
[he scrambles out of the way just before Kimble blasts the couch apart]
Detective John Kimble: I'm the party pooper.
Joseph: [to Phoebe] Boys have a penis, and girls have a vagina.
Phoebe: [to Kimble] Well, I see you've covered the basics.
Detective John Kimble: I have a headache.
Lowell: It might be a tumor.
Detective John Kimble: It's not a tumor! It's not a tumor. At all!
Detective John Kimble: SHUUUUUUUUUUT UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUP! Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!
[John Kimble sees boy eating out of lunch boxes]
Detective John Kimble: Are these all your lunches?
[boy shakes his head]
Detective John Kimble: You mean you eat other people's lunches?
Detective John Kimble: STOP IT!
Detective John Kimble: No more complaining. No more "Mr. Kimble, I have to go the bathroom". Nothing!
Detective John Kimble: There *is* no bathroom!
Joshua: Are you married, Mr. Kimble?
Detective John Kimble: No, I'm not.
[Joshua sticks his head into the hallway]
Joshua: [shouts] He's not married, Mom!
Detective John Kimble: How do I look?
Phoebe O'Hara: Take off the gun.
[Kimble realizes he has strapped on his shoulder holster]
Detective John Kimble: That's a good idea.
Phoebe O'Hara: Little bastards are gonna eat you alive.
Detective John Kimble: Get some rest and don't worry. I've been working undercover for a long time. They're six-year-olds. How much trouble can they be?
Phoebe O'Hara: On second thought, take the gun.
Detective John Kimble: We're going to play a wonderful game called, "Who is my daddy and what does he do?"
Emma: [during Who is Your Daddy game] My daddy works on a computer all day, and is the head of his company and he, um, he has a moustache and a beard, and he-he doesn't have a lot of hair, and cuz-um, since his head is so big, he can't wear any hats.
[O'Hara rushes to the airplane's restroom]
Stewardess: Is your wife okay, sir?
Detective John Kimble: Compared to what?
Miss Schlowski: What did it feel like to hit that son of a bitch?
Detective John Kimble: It felt great.
Detective John Kimble: I'm a cop, you idiot! I'm Detective John Kimble!
[after the kids start complaining about "police school"]
Detective John Kimble: Oh, come on...
Detective John Kimble: Stop whining! You kids are soft. You lack discipline.
Detective John Kimble: Well, I've got news for you. You are mine now. You belong to me.
Eleanor Crisp: [enters locker room, where she finds and unloads Kimble's gun, and also finds her dead son's bullet-ridden body and Kimble slumped and bleeding on floor against the shower wall] Where's my grandson?
Detective John Kimble: [gasping] I don't know.
Eleanor Crisp: [Eleanor fires gun into wall, just inches above Kimble's head, hissing] Where's my grandson?
Detective John Kimble: [gasping continues] Go to hell!
[Eleanor fires gun into wall again, just inches above Kimble's head, Phoebe enters the locker room and sees that Eleanor is going to shoot Kimble]
Eleanor Crisp: That's where you're going, you son of a bitch!
[moves towards Kimble and taking aim with pistol, suddenly accosted by an injured and bat-wielding Phoebe, who strikes her in the shoulder and knocks her to the floor]
Phoebe: You're not so tough without your car, are you?
[Kimble knocks out two gang members with ease, then turns to two others standing by his car]
Detective John Kimble: Oh, excuse me. I forgot to introduce myself. My name is John Kimble...
Detective John Kimble: And I love my car!
Street Tough #3: Yo, man, I'm just gonna keep a eye on it for you, all right?
Street Tough #4: You got a beautiful ride.
[as soon as Kimble is out of hearing range]
Street Tough #3: Shit. Who he think he is? He's lucky I didn't kick his ass.
Phoebe: Well, what are you going to do? Handcuff her to the bumper of your car and take her for a ride?
Detective John Kimble: Let's just say I'm not going to offer to cook her dinner.
Zach's Father: You must be the new teacher.
[offers to shake Kimble's hand, but Kimble pushes him against his car]
Detective John Kimble: You hit a kid, I hit you.
Zach's Father: You bastard.
[the man tries to hit Kimble but Kimble blocks the hit, then Kimble punches him in the stomach, grabs him by the shirt about to punch him in the face, but looks back to see the kids and the principal]
Detective John Kimble: [lets go of him] You're not worth it. I'm pressing charges against you.
[to some kids who keep bumping his airplane seat]
Detective John Kimble: Hey, come here.
[he beckons a kid with one finger, while holding a pencil in the other]
Detective John Kimble: If you don't stop screwing around back there, this is what I'm gonna do with you.
[he snaps the pencil in two with his thumb. The kid sits back, wide-eyed]
Detective John Kimble: Just don't throw up on me.
Phoebe O'Hara: Nah, it's OK, I'm not gonna throw up on you. But I am gonna kiss you.
[Crisp's mother is buying a heap of pediatric medication]
Cullen Crisp: The boy's not sick.
Eleanor Crisp: Doesn't hurt to take precautions.
Cullen Crisp: Mother, you are going to make him sick. You stuffed all this crap down my throat for years, and there was nothing wrong with me!
Eleanor Crisp: That's why there was nothing wrong with you.
Cullen Crisp: Now, how can you argue with that?
Miss Schlowski: Your teacher, Miss O'Hara, had to go somewhere.
Dominic: Where'd she go?
Miss Schlowski: That doesn't matter.
Lowell: Did she die?
Miss Schlowski: No, Lowell, she went to see someone.
Lowell: Did they die?
Miss Schlowski: *No*, Lowell.
Lowell: Everyone dies, you know.
[after his first day, John comes back and collapses on his bed]
Phoebe O'Hara: How'd it go?
Detective John Kimble: Go away.
Phoebe O'Hara: That well, huh?
Detective John Kimble: You take over tomorrow.
Phoebe O'Hara: And blow our cover? Can't do it.
Detective John Kimble: They're horrible. They're like little terrorists.
Phoebe O'Hara: Tell me about it.
Phoebe: [advising Kimble on how to be a teacher] Listen, Kimble, you've got to handle this like any other police situation. You walk into it showing fear, you're dead. And those kids know you're scared.
Detective John Kimble: [looks at her a moment, then nods] No fear.
Phoebe: No fear.
Assistant to Schlowski: [as they watch a helpless Kimble trying to get control of the kids] Aren't you going to break them up?
Miss Schlowski: No, two more days of this, then he'll quit!
[Kimble is searching the evacuated school for Crisp. Hearing something, he bursts in a door, pointing his gun]
Detective John Kimble: Freeze!
Kissing Boy: AAH!
[It turns out to be a teenage kid making out with his girlfriend - making it the second time Kimble's burst in on such a situation with his gun]
Detective John Kimble: [extremely annoyed] Don't you know the building is on fire?
Kissing Boy: We-we thought it was just another drill.
Detective John Kimble: Well, get out!
Kissing Boy: Yes, sir!
Joseph: My dad's a gynecologist. He looks at vaginas all day long.
Joyce: You know, kindergarten is like the ocean. You don't want to turn your back on it.
Detective John Kimble: Emma, take your toy back to the carpet and sit down.
Emma: I'm not a policeman, I'm a princess!
Detective John Kimble: Take your toy back to the carpet!
Emma: [softly] I'm not policeman, I'm a princess.
Detective John Kimble: TAKE IT BACK!
Emma: [miserable] All right.
Detective John Kimble: I really appreciate your honesty. You happen to know someone that is not better than me?
Dominic: I don't know that many people.
Kid: He's a caca-poopoo!
Cullen Crisp: [holding Dominic at gunpoint] Kimble!
Detective John Kimble: He's not your hostage; he's your son.
Cullen Crisp: Drop it. On the floor.
Detective John Kimble: You want to do this to your own son?
Cullen Crisp: Drop it. I'm losing it. Hurry.
Detective John Kimble: [puts his gun down] Okay. Now let him go.
Cullen Crisp: The boy is mine. He's *my* boy. You get your own goddamn family!
[Kimble's ferret bites Cullen's neck, then Kimble shoots him dead]
Cullen Crisp: [holding Dominic hostage] Rachael. Good, just what I need.
Joyce: Please, Cullen, let him go.
Cullen Crisp: How the hell you get out of here?
Joyce: Stop. You're scaring him!
Cullen Crisp: He's scared? Of course he's scared. You told him all these lies about me, my son doesn't even know me because of you.
Joyce: Please, please, don't do this.
Cullen Crisp: I'm his father. You stole him from me.
Joyce: Please, let him go.
[reaches for Dominic]
Cullen Crisp: Don't touch him!
[punches Joyce in the face; Dominic screams and runs away]
Cullen Crisp: Dominic, I didn't want to. She made me do it. Everything's gonna be okay, Dominic. We'll start a whole new family.
Kid: What's the matter?
Detective John Kimble: Oh, I have a headache.
Lowell: It might be a tumour.
Detective John Kimble: It's not a tumour! It's not a tumour at all!
Detective John Kimble: Who is your daddy and what does he do?
Cullen Crisp: Kimble, you've wasted years chasing after me, and what has it got you? Huh? Nothing! I'll be out of here in a week, and you'll still be eating takeout food in that dump you live in. Yeah! I know all about you, Kimble. Without me, you wouldn't even have a life. My old lady left because of the money. Yours left because she just couldn't stand the sight of you.
Detective John Kimble: You should be reading stories about bears that go shopping!
Cindy: [Being interrogated by Pheobe and looking right at the special glass] Yeah, I know you're in there and I know want you want, but you ain't getting it, no leads, no testimony. You can take your cuffs and shove'em up your ass.
Joyce: Kindergarten is like the ocean; you don't want to turn your back on it.
Detective John Kimble: [banging on fire bell] This is fire drill! Come on! This is a fire drill!
[all the children line up at the door]
Detective John Kimble: Dominic, don't forget Ferret!
[stops banging and looks at a stopwatch]
Detective John Kimble: Aww! This is terrible!
Miss Schlowski: I have no idea what kind of police officer you are. But you're a very good teacher.
Detective John Kimble: [surprised] Thank you.
Miss Schlowski: Four weeks into the new semester, my superintendent informed me that I would have to replace Ms. O'Hara, a teacher of twenty-five years' experience, with an undercover police officer, and he wouldn't even tell me why. I don't suppose you'd do me the courtesy of filling me in?
Detective John Kimble: I can't do that.
Miss Schlowski: Oh, you can't do that. I'm watching you. All I have to do is tell my parents that you're here for something to do with the police, and they'll yank their kids out of here so fast we'd have to close the place. And don't you think I won't, if I feel *my* children are in any danger!
Detective John Kimble: They're not in danger.
Phoebe O'Hara: Well, Joyce's story about the house checked out. It belongs to a guy who only uses it during the ski season. She's got under $1000 in the bank, no stocks, no bonds, no other assets under the name Joyce Paulmarie. Her teacher's salary is less than mine which is pathetic.
Detective John Kimble: Keep looking. Check for offshore accounts under Dominic's name...
Phoebe O'Hara: She doesn't live like someone with millions of dollars. She doesn't even seem the type. Kimble, this might not be her.
Detective John Kimble: It's got to be her.
Phoebe O'Hara: Why? Because she doesn't want to have anything to do with her ex-husband?
Detective John Kimble: I know it's her.
Phoebe O'Hara: Know what I think? You want it to be her. You really like her... and it's scaring you.
Sylvester's Mother: [Sylvester's mother walks into the gymnasium with a bike and a pony] Excuse me! Surprise! Ladies! Ladies, surprise! Obviously, I'm not into baking cakes so I brought these little things to donate for the raffle prizes.
Phoebe O'Hara: Who the hell is that?
Detective John Kimble: She's the one I was telling you about. Her husband ran away with another guy. It's been terrible for her.
Phoebe O'Hara: You're not getting mellow on me, are you?