You know, I'm such a great driver, it's incomprehensible that they took my
- Vincent J. Ricardo
No I didn't. Honest... I ran out of gas. I, I had a flat tire. I didn't have
enough money for cab fare. My tux didn't come back from the cleaners. An old
friend came in from out of town. Someone stole my car. There was an earthquake.
A terrible flood. Locusts. IT WASN'T MY FAULT, I SWEAR TO GOD.
But you can't hold a whole fraternity responsible for the behavior of a few,
sick twisted individuals. For if you do, then shouldn't we blame the whole
fraternity system? And if the whole fraternity system is guilty, then isn't this
an indictment of our educational institutions in general? I put it to you, Greg
- isn't this an indictment of our entire American society? Well, you can do
whatever you want to us, but we're not going to sit here and listen to you
badmouth the United States of America. Gentlemen!
Six weeks ago Abdul here had a one way ticket to an arranged marriage with a
broad he never met in Bangladesh. Now he's crushing ass every Thursday night at
Oh. Do you have the Beatles White Album? Never mind, just bring me a cup of
hot fat... and the head of Alfredo Garcia
I never touched a gun in my life. That and that alone forever doomed me to
So, what happens is my dad and uncles, they fight over who gets to eat the
lamb brain. And then my aunt Voula forks the eyeball and chases me around with
it, try to get me to eat it, 'cause it's gonna make me smart. So, you have two
cousins, I have 27 first cousins. Just 27 first cousins alone! And my whole
family is big and loud. And everybody is in each other's lives and business. All
the time! Like, you never just have a minute alone, just to think, 'Cause we're
always together, just eating, eating, eating! The only other people we know are
Greeks, 'cause Greeks marry Greeks to breed more Greeks, to be loud breeding
I'll tell you something. This country is going to the dogs. You know, it used
to be when you bought a politician, that son of a bitch stayed bought.
You know what word I'm not comfortable with? Nuance. It's not a real word.
Like gesture. Gesture's a real word. With gesture you know where you stand. But
nuance? I don't know. Maybe I'm wrong.
Never, never, interrupt me, okay? Not if there's a fire, not even if you hear
the sound of a thud from my home and one week later there's a smell coming from
there that can only be a decaying human body and you have to hold a hanky to
your face because the stench is so thick that you think you're going to faint.
Even then, don't come knocking. Or, if it's election night, and you're excited
and you wanna celebrate because some fudgepacker that you date has been elected
the first queer president of the United States and he's going to have you down
to Camp David, and you want someone to share the moment with. Even then, don't
knock. Not on this door. Not for ANY reason. Do you get me, sweetheart?
Now, I owe it to myself to tell you, Mr. Griswold, that if you are thinking
of taking the tribe cross country, this is your automobile. The Wagon Queen
Family Truckster. You think you hate it now, but wait till you drive it.
Oh, what large teeth you have. I mean white sparkly teeth, I
know you probably hear this all the time from your food but you
must bleach or something, 'cause that's one dazzling smile you
got there and do I detect a hint of minty freshness?
License to kill gophers by the government of the United
Nations. Man, free to kill gophers at will. To kill, you must
know your enemy, and in this case my enemy is a varmint. And a
varmint will never quit - ever. They're like the Viet Cong -
Varmint Cong. So you have to fall back on superior intelligence
and superior firepower... and that's all she wrote.
You're gonna need a blanket and suntan lotion, cause you're
never gonna get off that beach, just like the way you never got
into the NHL... you jackass!
The kid just won't quit peeing and throwing up. He's like a
Don't say a word to me, Sidney, don't say a fucking word to
me. I'll get up and I'll bury this telephone in your head.
Saturday, Donny... is Shabbos, the Jewish day of rest. That
means that I don't work, I don't drive a car, I don't fuckin'
ride in a car, I don't handle money, I don't turn on the oven,
and I sure as shit ... DONT FUCKING ROLL! SHOMER SHABBOS!
Ah. Well... I attended Juilliard... I'm a graduate of the
Harvard business school. I travel quite extensively. I lived
through the Black Plague and had a pretty good time during that.
I've seen the EXORCIST ABOUT A HUNDRED AND SIXTY-SEVEN TIMES,
AND IT KEEPS GETTING FUNNIER EVERY SINGLE TIME I SEE IT... NOT
TO MENTION THE FACT THAT YOU'RE TALKING TO A DEAD GUY... NOW
WHAT DO YOU THINK? You think I'm qualified?
I understand that you little guys start out with your woobies
and you think they're great... and they are, they are terrific.
But pretty soon, a woobie isn't enough. You're out on the street
trying to score an electric blanket, or maybe a quilt. And the
next thing you know, you're strung out on bedspreads Ken. That's
Lisa, I don't need this. I swear to God, I don't need this
right now, okay? I've got a judge that's just aching to throw me
in jail. An idiot who wants to fight me for two hundred dollars.
Slaughtered pigs. Giant loud whistles. I ain't slept in five
days. I got no money, a dress code problem, AND a little murder
case which in the balance holds the lives of two innocent kids.
Not to mention your BIOLOGICAL CLOCK - my career, your life, our
marriage, and let me see, what else can we pile on? Is there any
more SHIT we can pile on to the top of the outcome of this case?
Is it possible?
Value this time in your life kids, because this is the time
in your life when you still have your choices, and it goes by so
quickly. When you're a teenager you think you can do anything,
and you do. Your twenties are a blur. Your thirties, you raise
your family, you make a little money and you think to yourself,
"What happened to my twenties?" Your forties, you grow a little
pot belly you grow another chin. The music starts to get too
loud and one of your old girlfriends from high school becomes a
grandmother. Your fifties you have a minor surgery. You'll call
it a procedure, but it's a surgery. Your sixties you have a
major surgery, the music is still loud but it doesn't matter
because you can't hear it anyway. Seventies, you and the wife
retire to Fort Lauderdale, you start eating dinner at two, lunch
around ten, breakfast the night before. And you spend most of
your time wandering around malls looking for the ultimate in
soft yogurt and muttering "how come the kids don't call?" By
your eighties, you've had a major stroke, and you end up
babbling to some Jamaican nurse who your wife can't stand but
who you call mama. Any questions?
There is no way, NO way that you came from my loins. The
first thing I'm gonna do when I get home is punch your momma in
'Cause I'm a karate man, see! And a karate man bruises on the
inside! They don't show their weakness. But you don't know that
because you're a big Barry White looking motherfucker!
Here's a name for you nostalgia fans: Clarence "Screaming
Buffalo" Swamptown. I'll never forget an exclusive interview in
which Swamptown revealed that he calls his hockey stick the "Big
Tomahawk," and he usually refers to the opposing players as "the
Where do you think you're going? Nobody's leaving. Nobody's
walking out on this fun, old-fashioned family Christmas. No, no.
We're all in this together. This is a full-blown, four-alarm
holiday emergency here. We're gonna press on, and we're gonna
have the hap, hap, happiest Christmas since Bing Crosby
tap-danced with Danny fucking Kaye. And when Santa squeezes his
fat white ass down that chimney tonight, he's gonna find the
jolliest bunch of assholes this side of the nuthouse.