Dirty Work

Mitch:
Note to self: Making love to blow-up doll is not as good as advertised.

Mitch:
You know there are two types of people in this world: Those who get stomped on and those who do the stomping.

Kathy:
Where did you hear that?

Mitch:
Oh, that famous guy said it. What was his name?... Jesus!

Mitch:
You know what prisoners do? In prison?

Mitch:
Hey, remember in 4th grade when your sister was up on the monkey bars and I tried to sneak a peak at her underwear? I was really peaking at my own sister's underwear!

Sam:
Yeah! And remember in 12th grade when you had sex with her?

Kathy:
You guys are brothers?

Mitch:
Well, it's a long story...

Sam:
My dad boned his mom.

Mitch:
Okay, so it's a short story.

Mitch:
Note to self: remember to get ass wart cream for giant wart on my ass.

Sam:
Well, Mitch, it looks like we got ourselves a fight!

Mitch:
All right, it's fightin' time! Can I be on their side?

Mitch:
Note to self: learn to fight.

Mitch:
Bet you didn't count on my loyal army of prostitutes!

Bearded Lady:
Hey, baby. You ever had a chick with a beard before?

Mitch:
Can't say that I have there, bearded broad.

Bearded Lady:
Well, then, sugar, you haven't lived.

Mitch:
Note to self: I don't want to live.

Mitch:
Are those prostitutes? I mean, who are those girls?

Mitch:
You fellas have a lot of growing up to do, I'll tell you that. Ridiculous. Completely ridiculous. Can you believe these characters? Way out of line. Way out of line. Have a good mind to go to the warden about this. You know what hurts the most is the... the lack of respect. You know? That's what hurts the most. Except for the... Except for the other thing. That hurts the most. But the lack of respect hurts the second most.

Mitch:
Sam, are you pissing off the side of the building?

Sam:
Sorta.

Mitch:
Note to self, no matter how hard life gets, there is always beer!

Mitch:
Okay, settle down now prostitutes. Now it's agreed that you all each get twenty dollars, and this requires no sex, no sex at all, regardless of what this character here tells you!

Mitch:
Oh, my God! It's a picture of you and my mom! And you're having sex!

Mitch:
I've never seen so many dead hookers in my life!

Jimmy:
And there's the Saigon whore that bit my nose off!

Mr. Hamilton:
So there you are, tubby. Look like a bucket of lard on a bad day. You baby gorilla. Why don't you work in a zoo, and stop bothering people? Got a call yesterday from Baskin Robbins. They said that they're down to only five flavors. You're swelling up as I talk to you.

Mitch:
We've got great news!

Pops:
Did you get me a whore?

Sam:
No, we got you a heart transplant.

Pops:
Oh well, that's good too.

Pops:
I'm in whore heaven!

Dr. Farthing:
I know there's nobody to blame for this but myself, well, I don't know, maybe the Buffalo Bills, the Boston Red Sox, Mr. T. or the Jets...

Mitch:
Wait a minute, Mr T.? Are you telling me that you bet on the fight in Rocky III, and that you bet against Rocky?

Dr. Farthing:
Hindsight is twenty-twenty, my friend.

Mitch:
Well, at least I didn't get my nose bitten off by a Saigon whore!

Satan:
We eat the pig and then together we burn! Burn!

Gary Coleman:
Whatchu talkin' 'bout, Satan?

Satan:
Come with me! You belong with me! Burn! Burn! BURN!

Sam:
Hey, doc, what happened to your foot?

Dr. Farthing:
What I don't understand is... when you owe a bookie a lot of money, and he, say, blows off one of your toes, you still owe him the money. Doesn't seem fair to me. Especially when he's gonna kill me in four days anyway.

Mitch:
Dr. Farthing, what happened to your arm?

Dr. Farthing:
Well, it was either from sleeping on it the wrong way or a booky throwing me out of a speeding car...

Pops:
Back then we didn't have these fancy birth control methods. Like pulling out.

Dr. Farthing:
For six hundred dollars I can sell you a perfectly good hospital bed.

Sam:
Are you crazy? I don't need a bed.

Dr. Farthing:
Playing hardball are you?

Mitch:
Note to self. Sam looked at the screen.

Sam:
No I wasn't! I was just checking if everything...!

A.D.:
Hand over the milk money, Weaver.

Mitch:
I'm afraid I can't do that, Derek. I'm just not sure you'll spend it on milk.

Mitch:
Sam, you remember how things were when we were young?

Sam:
Yeah, it was great.

Mitch:
Yeah it was. I mean, I felt good about myself back then, y’know? If somebody messed with me, no problem. I didn’t take crap from anybody. Now I’m in my thirties, I can’t hold a job, I go with women I don’t even like. And worst of all, I take crap from absolutely everybody. Ah well, things could be worse, y’know, I uh… [louder] I coulda got my nose bit off by a Saigon whore!

Jimmy:
[Turning round to reveal his bitten-off nose] You… bastard!

Bar patron:
Looks like there’s gonna be a brawl. Playing something good?

Jimmy:
Hell yeah! Rolling Stones, “Street Fighting Man,” G-7!

Patron:
You just hit G-8.

[Jukebox plays “Escape (The Piña Colada Song).”]

Mitch:
Whoa, you got a dead hooker in the trunk!

Anton Phillips:
What? No! [Slams the trunk.] It can’t be!

Mitch:
Yes it was, it was a dead hooker!

Anton:
It wasn’t a dead hooker!

Mitch:
Hell, I know a dead hooker when I see one.

Anton:
What’s happening? Hey, folks, come on down…

[Sam opens another trunk remotely.]

Mitch:
Hey hey, here’s another dead hooker in this trunk!

Anton:
What?

[Sam opens another and another. Anton frantically tries to close them.]

Mitch:
Oh my goodness!

Anton:
What’re you doing?

Mitch:
I’ve never seen so many dead hookers in all my life!

Creepy Harry:
Lord knows I have.

Sam:
' You thinking what I’m thinking?

Mitch:
No no no no. I have a plan.

Sam:
Oh.

Mitch:
I tell you what. I’ll give you a dollar each if you go into this building here and run around yelling and sceaming.

Homeless guy (Fred Wolf); Ah y’know, that’s very nice, but I think what you probably need are like some psycho, out-of-control homeless guys.

Other homeless guy (Jim Downey):
Yeah, we’re more the broken, spiritless, “I’ve lost the will to live” type homeless guys.

Mitch:
How ’bout for two dollars?

[Cut to the homeless guys running amok in the building.]

Mitch:
I mean we’ve always been like brothers. Now it’s just official. I mean it’s kinda cool.

Sam:
Yeah, I guess it is cool. But it does change things.

Mitch:
How’s that?

Sam:
Well, like remember the second grade, when we used those rusty soda can tops to become blood brothers? Well, it was really a bunch of trouble for nothing, because we were already brothers.

Mitch:
Yeah that’s right. Hey, hey! Hey, remember in fifth grade, when I was under the monkey bars and I sneaked a peek at your sister’s underwear? You remember that? Hey, no no: I was sneaking a peek at my own sister’s underwear!

Sam:
[Laughing.] That’s right. Oh yeah, and remember in the twelfth grade, you had sex with her?

[Both immediately stop laughing.]

Mitch:
Okay, enough reminiscing.

Kathy:
I can’t believe I’m doing this. I don’t even know why I’m here.

Mitch:
Hey, why are you here? Oh wait, I remember: Intense physical attraction to me.

Mitch:
Hey, what’s up, fruity?

Travis Cole:
How did you… It doesn’t matter; you’ll be gone in a minute.

Mitch:
Aha! You didn’t count on my loyal army of prostitutes, did you?

Prostitute (Uni Park):
[Growls at him.]

Travis:
All right, what do you want?

Mitch:
Ah, just relax. Let’s watch your dirty opera, huh?

Mitch:
Oh hey, by the way, Travis, do you remember, uh, do you remember when you said this?

Mitch on tape:
Note to self: Making love to blow-up doll not as good as advertised.

Travis:
No.

Mitch:
Oh, uh, sorry, I… Musta gone too far there.

Mitch:
Here’s the check for fifty thousand.

Dr. Farthing:
Oh, that’s great, Mitch. Say, what do you wanna bet I don’t go to my bookie?

Mitch:
No! You’re going straight to your bookie to pay him off so you can live and perform Pop’s heart transplant!