Russ Tamblyn: Riff

West Side Story

Riff

Action: [pretending to be a psychiatrist] Juvenile delinquency is purely a social disease.
Riff: Hey! I got a social disease!

Riff: We gotta stand up to them Doc; it's important.
Doc: Fighting over a little piece of street is so important?
Action: To us it is!
Doc: To hoodlums it is!
Action: Who're you callin' a hoodlum?
Doc: War councils...
Action: Don't start, Doc.
Doc: ...Rumbles...
Action: D'you hear me, Doc?
Doc: Why, when I was your age...
Action: When *you* was my age? When my old man was my age, when my brudder was my age. You was never my age, none of ya! And the sooner you creeps get hip to that, the sooner you'll dig us!
Doc: I'll dig you an early grave, that's what I'll dig.
A-Rab: Dig, dig, dig!

Riff: Look, Tony, I've never asked the time of day from a clock but I'm asking you, come to the dance tonight. I already told the gang you'd be there. If you don't show I'll be marked lousy.
Tony: What time?
Riff: Ten.
Tony: Ten it is.
Riff: Womb to tomb!
Tony: Birth to Earth. And I'll live to regret this.
Riff: Who knows? Maybe what you've been waitin' on will be twitchin at the dance tonight.
Tony: Who knows? Could be... Who knows?

Riff: Four-and-a-half years I live wit' a buddy an' his family. I think I'm diggin' a guy's character... Boy, I'm a victim of disappointment in you.
Tony: End ya sufferin', little man. Why dontcha just pack up ya gear an' move out?
Riff: 'Cause ya ma's hot fa me...

Riff: [singing] When you're a Jet, you're a Jet all the way! From you're first cigarette, To you're last dyin' days...

Riff: Now move in and shake hands.
Bernardo: For what?
Riff: Well, that's the way it's done, buddy boy.
Bernardo: More gracious living. Everyone of you hates everyone of us, and we *hate* you right back.

Riff: Come on, Jets, round out! Not you, Anybodys, beat it.
Anybodys, Tomboy: Ah, Riff, you gotta let me in the gang! Didn't you just see me, I was smash, I'm a killer, I wanna fight!
A-Rab: How else's she gonna get a guy to touch her?
Anybodys, Tomboy: You dirty rat!
[lunges at him]

[first lines]
[the Jets dance across the streets of New York, eventually coming to a playground where they toss around a basketball. The ball is intercepted by Bernardo, leader of the Sharks]
Riff: [snaps fingers at Bernardo] Come on.
[Bernardo drops the ball, Riff picks it up]
Riff: Beat it.

Riff: My daddy beats my mommy, My mommy clobbers me. My grandpa is a commie, My grandma pushes tea. My sister wears a mustache, My brother wears a dress. Goodness gracious! That's why I'm a mess.
Action: [German accent, playing a psychiatrist] Yes! Officer Krupke, he shouldn't be here. Zis boy don't need a couch, he needs a useful career. Society's played him, a terrible trick, und sociologically he's sick!
Riff: I am sick!
The Jets: We are sick, we are sick. We are sick, sick, sick. Like we're sociologically sick!
Action: In my opinion, ziz child does not need to have his head shrunk at all. Juvenile delinquency is purely a social disease!
Riff: Hey, I got a social disease!
Action: So, take him to a social vorker!
Big Deal: Vhich vay?
Action: Dat vay!

Riff: Now, you're talkin! Man, Without a gang, you're an orphan! With a gang, you walk in twos, threes ,fours. When your crew is the best, when you're a Jet, you're out in the sun, buddy boy, you're home free home!

The Jets: [singing] Gee, Officer Krupke, we're down on our knees!
Riff: 'Cause no one wants a fella with a social disease!
The Jets: Gee Officer Krupke, what are we to do? Gee, Officer Krupke - Krup you!

Lieutenant Schrank: [shouting to the others] BREAK IT UP, YOU PUNKS! Cut it out! Come on, let's break it up, l said! Come on! Break it up! COME ON!
Officer Krupke: Alright, knock it off. Get up. Come on. Settle down.
Lieutenant Schrank: How many times have l told you punks to cut this stuff out?
Riff: Why, if it ain't Lieutenant Schrank.
The Jets: Top o' the day, Lieutenant Schrank.
Bernardo: And Officer Krupke.
The Sharks: Top o' the day, Officer Krupke.
Officer Krupke: [points at the sharks] l'll give you the top o' the head.
Lieutenant Schrank: Hey, you, get down!
A-Rab: But we're havin' such fun.
Snowboy: We enjoy the playground.
Riff: Ah, see, it keeps us deprived children off of the foul city streets.
Officer Krupke: Shut up.
A-Rab: And born like we was on the hot pavements.
Officer Krupke: You wanna get your skull broke?
Lieutenant Schrank: Hey, Baby John, come here! COME HERE!
[comes up to Lieutenant Schrank, and looks at the sharks]
Lieutenant Schrank: All right! Now, which one of these Puerto Ricans bloodied you? Huh?
Baby John: [looks at Schrank] W-Well, sir, uh...
Lieutenant Schrank: [points at them] Which one?
Riff: Uh... Uh, excuse me, sir. As a matter of fact, uh... we suspicion that the job was done by a cop.
Snowboy: Two cops.
Action: [points at the Jets] At the very least.
Officer Krupke: lmpossible.
Bernardo: ln America, nothing is impossible.
[they both laugh]

Snowboy: The trouble is he's lazy!
Joyboy: The trouble is he drinks!
Baby John: The trouble is he's crazy!
A-Rab: The trouble is he stinks!
Mouthpiece: The trouble is he's growing!
Action: The trouble is he's grown!
The Jets: Krupke, we've got trouble of our own! Gee, Officer Krupke we're down on our knees!
Riff: 'Cause no one wants a fella with a social disease!
The Jets: Gee, Officer Krupke what are we to do? Gee, Officer Krupke, krup you!