Bill HaderQuotes

Private Miller: [pause] Ah, well, sir, I feel like a, like a slice o butter... melting on top of a big ol pile of flapjacks. Yeah.

Officer Michaels: You know, this job, though, isn't how shows like CSI make it out to be. When I first joined the force, I was under the impression that everything was covered in a fine layer of semen. And that the police had at their disposal a semen database with every bad guy's semen on it. Not true!

Officer Slater: Yup.

Officer Michaels: If only there was semen on everything, it would make our jobs easier.

Officer Slater: Hell yeah!

Officer Michaels: I often go to sleep and dream of waking up in a world where everything is covered in semen.

Officer Slater: I mean, who doesn't? It's like your wish that you could walk out of a room and just know where the semen was. You just know like Sherlock Holmes, if he was in his day, Sherlock Holomes, in his day... And this is a proven historical fact. Sherlock Holmes, when he was alive, knew where semen was.

Officer Michaels: Could smell it out like a rat.

Officer Slater: Smell it out. Anything.

Officer Michaels: Like the crime scene today, if the man had ejaculated and then punched you in the face, we'd have a real good shot at catching him.

Officer Slater: No way.

Officer Michaels: Just punched you in the face. No semen.

Officer Slater: Yeah, no semen. And that's the only way you can find DNA by the way, if it's in the jizz.

Officer Michaels: Semen. It's the best DNA, is in the jizz.

Officer Slater: I'm telling you right now, sometimes I just want to make, you know, live in a world of semen.

Officer Slater: [pointing gun at Evan and Seth] Spread your shit! Get on the ground! Loaded gun! Ready to go! Spread your shit! Pussies on the pavement, fellas!

Les Grossman: The universe is talking to us right now. You just gotta listen.

Grossman: See, this is the good part, Pecker. This is when the job gets fun.

Rob Slolom: Mmm, yeah.

Grossman: Ask, and you shall receive.

Slolom: All right!

Grossman: [Slolom nods. Grossman begins dancing like he's slapping ass.] You play ball, we play ball. I know you want the goodies. Mmm!

Slolom: Welcome to the goodie room.

Grossman: [[w:Gulfstream V|G5] You payin attention? Cuz I'm talkin ], Pecker. That's how you're gonna roll. No more frequent flyer bitch miles for my boi. Oh yeah. Playa. Playa. Big dick playa.

Slolom: Swingin past your knees.

Grossman: Big dick, baby.

Slolom: Yup.

Grossman: Or, you can grow a conscience in the next five minutes and see where that takes you.

Rick "Pecker" Peck: Let me get this straight. You want me to let my client of fifteen years, one of my best friends, die in the jungle alone for some money and a G5.

Grossman: Yes.

Pecker: A G5 airplane.

Grossman: [Grossman starts the music again, and he and Slolom start dancing again.] Yes. And lots of money. Playa....

Slolom: Yeah! Smack it up, flip up, rub it down, hoo!!

Les Grossman: I see you. I see you. I see you. Which one of you fuckfaces is Damien Cockburn?

Damien Cockburn: Uh, that's me, sir. It's an honor to finally meet you. Get some face time.

Les Grossman: [the key grip raises his hand] And who here is the key grip? You? You! Hit that director in the face, really fucking hard!

Key Grip: [reluctantly walks over to Damien; punches him in the face] Sorry, man.

Les Grossman: This is all your fault, you Limey fuck! You shit the money-bed, my friend.

Damien Cockburn: What?

Rob Slolom: God damn it, Damien! with all due respect, Les Grossman did not blow up the jungle.

Damien Cockburn: What?

Les Grossman: Fuck the jungle.

Rob Slolom: Exactly! come on, man.

Damien Cockburn: Hey, Les, I understand if you're angry, but I am dealing with a bunch of prima donnas! clowns! Tugg Speedman, he can't cry! he can't cry!

Les Grossman: You know how you handle an actor? they whine about anything, you pull down their pants and you spank their ass.

Rob Slolom: You spank that ass, Les.

Damien Cockburn: What?

Four-Leaf Tayback: Spanking a child turns him into a snot. Fear, that's what makes him a man. I know a place where a man's worth is measured by the ears hanging off his dog tags. The real hardcore shit! You wanna make this movie right? That's where you take your pansy ass actors.

Les Grossman: [beat] Who is this guy?

Rob Slolom: Les, that's Four Leaf.

Four Leaf Tayback: Sergeant Four Leaf Tayback. I wrote the book.

Les Grossman: Wow. You're a great American. This nation owes you a huge debt. Now shut the fuck up and let me do my job! Look, Cockburn.

Damien Cockburn: Yes.

Les Grossman: From now on, my fist is gonna be so far up your shithole that every time you have a thought, it's gonna have to tiptoe past my wedding ring. Take control of your actors, or I will shut you down. Diet Coke!

Richie Tozier: [Sees other Losers putting on shower caps] Stanley, we're not afraid of fucking spiders. I stand corrected.

Richie Tozier: [To IT/Pennywise as he's about to kill Mike; [w:Die Hard|Yippee-ki-yay, motherfu; IT/Pennywise uses the Deadlights on him] Hey, fuckface! You wanna play Truth or Dare? Here's the truth: you're a sloppy bitch! Yeah, that's right! Let's dance! ]-

Richie Tozier: [Pretending to be IT/Pennywise in the clubhouse] Hey, Losers! Time to float!

Richie Tozier: Hey! Hey! That fortune cookie's looking at me!

Richie Tozier: [To Ben and Beverly] Wow, you two look amazing. What the fuck happened to me?

Richie Tozier: This meeting of the Losers Club has officially begun.