Bletch: Shit! I was just about to pop my cookies!
出自電影《Meet the Feebles》 的經典對白。
更多Meet the Feebles的經典對白
Heidi: Eat lead you man-stealing slut!
Trevor: I've heard better singing from a mongoose with throat cancer.
Bletch: Shit! I was just about to pop my cookies!
Heidi: Eat lead you man-stealing slut!
Trevor: I've heard better singing from a mongoose with throat cancer.
Bletch: Shit! I was just about to pop my cookies!
Bletch: Oh, shit! I was just about to pop my cookies!
Warthog: This is a lovely golf course, I'm tempted to join the club meself. Bletch: No chance of that I'm afraid, Cedric. Warthog: You mean they discriminate against Scots? Bletch: No, they just don't want assholes in the clubhouse.
Sebastian: Don't worry if you feel ashamed / It's been around for years / And thousands more that can't be named / Are interested in rears / Don't worry about hell / No harm will come to your soul / We're not a Pentecostal / And everybody's got an asshole / SODOMY! Bletch: Trevor... Trevor: Yeah boss? Bletch: I want that fudge packer eliminated!
Robert: I thought you were nice. Lucille: I am nice. Robert: No your not, you're loose! And you drink! Lucille: No... Robert: You're nothing but a loose lush Lucille and I never want to see you again!
Bletch: Hey Barry, how's your handicap? Barry the Bulldog: She's at home boss. Baking a cake.
Heidi: It wasn't my fault! Sebastian: You've been overeating again! Heidi: No I haven't. Sebastian: There is Black Forest Cherry Cake in your cleavage. Heidi: Oh. How did that get there? Sebastian: You know what chocolate does to your system. Heidi: It was only a small wedge. Sebastian: Your contract specifically states you are forbidden to eat gateaux on the day of a performance. Heidi: I was depressed. Sebastian: You're depressed? We're going out live in three hours, for God's sake! Heidi: Don't speak to me like that! Heidi: You don't understand! None of you understand! Bletch! Bletch! Sebastian: Suddenly, I feel very, very old.
Bletch: Do you really think people are interested in nasal sex? Trevor: Sure, boss. It's the next big fad.
Trevor: Didn't you notice you were sitting on his face! Madame Udder: Well, it was a bit uncomfortable but I thought it was my hemorrhoids.
Robert: I'm Robert. Trevor: You may be Robert to your friends but you're fly shit to me! Piss off!
Dr. Quack: It's the *big one*, Harold! Harry the Hare: I-it can't be! I've taken *precautions*!
Trevor: I say, everyone! Who's the dirty person who did the great, big, stinky poo that blocking up the toilet? The Sheep: God, Trevor! Must you be so disgusting? F. W. Fly: Oh, Joyce! F. W. Fly: Hey! What's you doing? Let me go! Bletch: You've been telling stories again, haven't you? F. W. Fly: You've got a problem with the article? Write to the editor. Bletch: That won't be necessary. F. W. Fly: Help me! Trevor: Well, what do you know, boss? A left winged reporter. Bletch: We can't have a biased press, can we Trevor? Trevor: No, boss. Bletch: Now that's what I call an impartial journalist.
Trevor: I say, everyone! Who's the dirty person who did the great, big, stinky poo that's blocking up the toilet? The Sheep: God, Trevor! Must you be so disgusting? F. W. Fly: Oh, Joyce! F. W. Fly: Hey! What's you doing? Let me go! Bletch: You've been telling stories again, haven't you? F. W. Fly: You've got a problem with the article? Write to the editor. Bletch: That won't be necessary. F. W. Fly: Help me! Trevor: Well, what do you know, boss? A left winged reporter. Bletch: We can't have a biased press, can we Trevor? Trevor: No, boss. Bletch: Now that's what I call an impartial journalist.
Trevor: Christ! It's Mr. Big! Mr. Big the Whale: Hello, Bletch. Where are you going? Bletch: I'm taking what's mine. Don't try to stop us! Mr. Big the Whale: You're out of your league, little fella! Kiss your arse goodbye! Bletch: Take him out, Trevor. Bletch: Change down Trevor, the duodenum's pretty steep. Trevor: Which way, boss? Left or right? Bletch: Follow the light. Bletch: Get me back to the theater double quick! Trevor: Sure thing, boss. Bletch: I'll have to change my suit. I'm covered in ambergris.
Trevor: I say, everyone! Who's the dirty person who did the great, big, stinky poo that's blocking up the toilet? The Sheep: God, Trevor! Must you be so disgusting? F. W. Fly: Oh, choice! F. W. Fly: Hey! What are you doing? Let me go! Bletch: You've been telling stories again, haven't you? F. W. Fly: You've got a problem with the article? Write to the editor. Bletch: That won't be necessary. F. W. Fly: Help me! Trevor: Well, what do you know, boss? A left winged reporter. Bletch: We can't have a biased press, can we Trevor? Trevor: No, boss. Bletch: Now that's what I call an impartial journalist.
