Dumb and Dumber

Lloyd:
[after hearing of Petey's death] That's it. I've had it with this dump! We've got no food, we got no jobs,... our pets' HEADS ARE FALLIN' OFF!!!

Lloyd:
Life's a fragile thing, Harr. One minute you're chewin' on a burger, and the next minute you're dead meat.

Lloyd:
Hey. Wanna hear the most annoying sound in the world? [makes a loud, weird noise]

Lloyd:
(pretends to promote Turbo Lax) 1/2 teaspoon, for fast, effective relief.

Lloyd:
You know what I'm sick and tired of, Harry? I'm sick and tired of having to eke my way through life. I'm sick and tired of bein' a nobody. (pause) But most of all,... I'm sick and tired of havin' nobody.

Lloyd:
(about a passing woman at the preservation society) I'd like to eat her liver with some "farver" beans and a nice bottle of chianti! (he and Harry imitate Hannibal Lecter)

Lloyd:
Mary, I desperately want to make love to a schoolboy.

Harry:
You know, Lloyd, just when I think you couldn't possibly be any dumber, you go and do something like this... and totally redeem yourself!

Harry:
[to Mary, while looking at a pair of owls] Nice set of hooters you got there.

Lloyd:
I'm only human, Harry! Anybody can make a mistake. Come on! Stop bein' a baby! So we backtracked a tad!

Harry:
A TAD?!!

(he furiously runs up to Lloyd)

Harry:
A tad, Lloyd?! You drove almost a 6th of the way across the country in the wrong... DIRECTION!!! Now we don't have enough money to get to Aspen! We don't have enough money to get home! We don't have enough money to eat! We don't have enough money... TO SLEEP!!

Lloyd:
Well, it's not gonna do us any good to sit here whinin' about it. We're in a hole. We're just gonna have to dig ourselves out.

Harry:
(nods unhappily) Okay. Right. You're right. You're absolutely right, Lloyd.

(he's about to walk away)

Lloyd:
Where ya goin'?

Harry:
Home. I'm walking home!

Lloyd:
Oh! Well, pardon me, Mr. PERFECT!!! (nervously laughs) I guess I forgot that you never, ever make a mistake!

Joe:
(sees a note on Harry and Lloyd's door) Those rat bastards. They're rubbin' it right in our faces.

Shay:
Man! Andre'll have a goddamn hemorrage if we don't get that briefcase back!

Joe:
They must've been followin' us for weeks.

Shay:
Why ya say?

Joe:
"Gas Man". How the hell do they know that I got gas?

Shay:
They gotta be pros.

Joe:
Don't worry. We're gonna get that money back. And I'll tell you somethin' else. They ain't never gettin' to Aspen. I'm gonna see to that. (crumples the note)

Harry:
Where's the booze?

Lloyd:
I got robbed by a sweet old lady on a motorized cart. I didn't even see it comin'!

[Harry starts to moan in despair]

Lloyd:
Harry... Oh, come on, Harry. Cheer up...

Harry:
[voice breaks] It gets worse, Lloyd. My parakeet, Petey...

Lloyd:
Yeah?

Harry:
He's dead.

Lloyd:
Oh... Oh, man, I'm sorry, Harry. What happened?

Harry:
His head fell off.

Lloyd:
[reacts; whispers] His head fell off?

Harry:
Yeah, he was pretty old.

Harry:
How was your day?

Lloyd:
Not bad. Fell off the jetway again.

Harry:
So you got fired again?

Lloyd:
Yeah, they always freak out when you leave the scene of an accident, ya know.

Harry:
Yeah, I lost my job too.

Lloyd:
Man, You are one pathetic loser. No offense.

Harry:
No, none taken.

Nicholas:
Which one of you losers wants to get it first?

Lloyd:
Over here. I was the one who got us into this whole mess. C'mon, shoot me.

Harry:
No! Wait. Do me first. I stole your girl, Lloyd, I deserve it.

Lloyd:
No, you don't.

Harry:
Yes, I do.

Lloyd:
No, you don't. No, you don't!

Harry:
Yes, I do! Yesterday was one of the greatest days of my life! Mary and I went skiing, we made a snowman, she touched my leg.

Lloyd:
[sarcastically] Okay. Kill him!

[Nicholas shoots Harry, and Harry faints, seemingly dead]

Lloyd:
Oh, no! [whimpers; to Nicholas] You killed my best friend, you bastard!

Nicholas:
[points his gun at Lloyd] If it's any consolation, you're about to be reunited.

[but before he can attempt to shoot, Harry, fully recovered, extracts his gun, and tries to shoot Nicholas, but misses]

Lloyd:
Harry! You're alive! And you're a horrible shot.

Nicholas:
Lucky me.

Lloyd:
[nudges Harry] You're it.

Harry:
[nudges Lloyd] You're it.

Lloyd:
[nudges Harry] You're it, quitsies!

Harry:
Anti-quitsies. [nudges Lloyd] You're it! Quitsies, no anti-quitsies, no startsies!

Lloyd:
You can't do that!

Harry:
Can too!

Lloyd:
Cannot, stamped it!

Harry:
Can too, double stamped it, no erasies!

Lloyd:
Cannot, triple stamped it, no erasies, touch blue make it true. [puts his hands over his ears and sings]

Harry:
No! No! You can't triple stamp a double stamp! You can't triple stamp a double stamp, Lloyd! You can't triple stamp a double stamp! LLOYD! LLOYD! You c--

Joe:
GUYS!!! ENOUGH!!

Beth:
The number's 555-...

Harry:
(quietly and rapidly) 555-...

Beth:
905-- Wait a minute, that's my old number. (laughs) That is so weird how your mind just goes blank!

Harry:
(screams while his left leg is on fire) FOR GOD'S SAKES, JUST GIMME THE DAMN NUMBER!!!

Beth:
Okay, look. Uh, you're gonna get pushy, forget about it!

(she drives away)

What the one doesn't have, the other is missing.

For Harry and Lloyd every day is a no-brainer.

Joe:
[on the phone with Nicholas] Yeah, it's Mental. I'm just sitting down to a nice meal with our boys.

Nicholas:
Oh, how nice for you. Don't forget that your bread plate is on the left! Look, I can't have these guys runnin' around Aspen!

Joe:
Don't worry. They ain't gonna be runnin' around nowhere after I dump a little rat poison in their Shirley Temple.

Joe:
[after punching the guy behind him while he is on the phone with Nicholas] I'm sorry, Mr. Andre. You were saying?

Nicholas:
Look, Mental. Those jokers have got a lot of money that belongs to me! I wanna know who they are and what they're doing with it!

Joe:
Hey, hey, hey. I told you already, I'm on it. Alright?

Nicholas:
Good. [Hangs up and drinks his cup]

Lloyd Christmas:
[after dumping Turbo Lax in Harry's tea] To my friend, Harry... the matchmaker.

Harry Dunne:
You sold my dead bird to a blind kid?!

Harry Dunne:
Yeah, I'm heading to Aspen myself. Maybe we could meet up and have some hot chocolate.

Harry Dunne:
FOR GOD'S SAKES, JUST GIMME THE DAMN NUMBER!