A Little Harmless Murder

Karen:
Oh, and by the way, when Jerry called you a cacophonous, mongoloid tally-whacker, he didn't mean that as a compliment.

Paul:
Paul quitting his job at the Blind Shop.

Paul:
Anyway, I was getting really tired of having to say, "No, we don't sell Playboy in Braille."

Paul:
Excuse me, sir, I was wondering if you could do me the great favor of killing me.

Life Insurance Salesman:
Uhhh... no... but, could I interest you in some premium life insurance?

Paul:
No! A fate worse than death! Stay away from me, Dark Angel, you frighten me!

Paul:
How about this? We get a power drill, and make a hole in my belly button. Then we get two fishing rods, and use the hooks to just pull out my intestines! OK, thanks anyways... buh-bye. This is harder than it looks. They make it look so easy on TV.

Paul:
Can't a guy get himself killed around here?

Paul:
Nobody'll kill me. Maybe I should offer them money.

George:
Oh, no, don't do that - too expensive. Most people charge an arm and a leg, so to speak.

George:
Who was that?

Paul:
Oh, just the director. You know, the obligatory cameo. Egomaniac!

George:
Death ain't 'livin' la vida loca.'

Karen:
I was thinking we could get back together. I can live with the fact that you're not much of a man. So, how about it then?

Paul:
So, about us getting back together. I'd rather spend the weekend drinking turpentine and rolling around in cow manure.