Heavy Traffic

Michael:
Mick Jagger I'm not!

Ida:
I died the day I married a goy!

God:
Hey, Warren! This is the voice of God!

Warren:
What's up?

Carole:
Listen, Michael. Uh, first thing in the morning, we will take them big-ass drawings of yours up to one of them big cartoon syndicates. You can sell 'em, we'll get some bread, get our clothes out of Angie's house and split for San Francisco. And Shorty can't roll that far.

Michael:
I'm gonna tell you, Carole, I don't wanna sell my cartoons to one of them places. They, uh - they ain't gonna buy that crap anyway. I'm an underground cartoonist. That's - that's where I belong.

Carole:
So why don't you sell your stuff to your underground friends?

Michael:
They don't wanna buy any.

Carole:
Now, why that, Mr. Underground?

Michael:
'Cause, well, uh... [in whisper to Carole] I still jack off.

Carole:
[Laughing] You are cool!

[Both laughing]

Carole:
What the hell is all this racket about?

Angie:
[referring to Carole] What'd your Jewish momma do now, hire a cleaning lady?

Michael:
Pop, this is my girlfriend.

Angie:
[in shock] Get that n*gger out of my house! [Carole thrusts her behind in the air and pops it out revealing her enormous backside before backing out of the room]

[a hand comes into the screen and onto Michael's neck in a choking fashion]

Michael:
Moe?

[the scene pulls back to reveal Ollie]

Ollie:
Hey, man, do I look like a n*gger to you? I mean- I mean, like, take a good, clean look.

Michael:
A good, clean look would be refreshing, Ollie.

[Angie comes home to find Ida praying]

Angie:
Hey, I thought you'd be sleepin'. Hey, Ida, what are you doin' up?

Ida:
Praying for the dead.

Angie:
Who died?

Ida:
Someone close.

Angie:
Anyone I know?

Ida:
YOU die!

[knocks him out with a frying pan]

Ida:
Twenty three years of suffering! So go marry an Italian. Stays out all night with some dumb whore. Catholics don't get divorced! Big deal. I died the day I married a goy! Now it's your turn Angie! Roast in Hell!

[starts shoving his head into the oven]

Ida:
I got one left over!

[shoves him inside and turns on the gas]

Ida:
Go meet your Marys and Josephs!

[after escaping Ida's oven]

Angie:
Your mother is a goddamn crazy b*tch, Michael!

[Ida throws a meat cleaver from O.S. that hits between Angie's legs]

Angie:
Mother of God-!

[looks down his pants]

Angie:
Thank God she needs glasses!

Moe:
Hey, It's Michael Corleone! What's you doin' now?

[makes pigeon noises]

Moe:
What's you doin' now?

Michael:
Hey, crazy man! How come you're not down in your basement?

Moe:
Well, I, I came to kill your pigeon, boy.

Michael:
Ah, that's bullshit, Moe, you're probably peekin' down at the ladies.

Moe:
Yeah! My peekin' days long shut down, Michael.

[sadly]

Moe:
I ain't there no more. I just ain't there.

[plays his harmonica]

Michael:
Ah, you're just a crazy n*gger, Moe. Just a goddamn crazy n*gger.

Moe:
We's all n*ggers, boy! Ha ha! You an' me, just goddamn crazy n*ggers! We's all n*ggers boy. Most of us don't know it yet.

Michael:
[passing a joint to Moe] Hey, listen, you want some of this sh*t?

Moe:
Even your pigeon's a n*gger! Ha ha ha ha ha! That's why I'm gonna kill him.

Michael:
Moe, you ain't gonna do sh*t!

Moe:
Moe: I just ain't there. Every- Everybody plays like they there, but they ain't there. I ain't there. Your pigeon ain't there! He flies high like he there, but he don't fly 'less you open that cage. And he got to come back 'cause he's trained to! He ain't there.

Ollie:
[pressuring Michael to have sex with a naked girl] Say hello to Rosalyn, Mike.

Rosalyn:
Hiya, Mike. I've heard a lot about you.

Ollie:
She's good, Mike! She's good!

Rosalyn:
Everyone says you're a virgin, Michael.

Michael:
Wait a minute! Don't even believe that! You know, everybody talks, they think they know everything. Well, nobody knows nothing. I mean, do I look like a virgin to you?

[Ollie and his friends laugh]

Michael:
Uh, are you serious about stayin' with me? Cause, I mean, it's really okay with me. I mean, if I could... I could sleep on the floor, and you could... I mean...

Carole:
Listen here, white boy, don't hand me that honky sh*t. "Stay with you." You ain't got nothin' goin' for you. Damn, man! First you help me get my ass kicked out of a good gig, then, cause you think I need you for a few goddamn minutes, you try to jive-ass me for a quick lay? Now, listen here, boy! [pats her behind, watching it jiggle] As long as Carole got this here good thing, [taps her head] and this here left, ha ha ha! She don't need ANYTHING else unless she wants it, and child, I don't want it.

[Carole shows up at Michael's apartment after being stalked by Shorty]

Carole:
Surprise, Sugar. You're on. What you gonna do about it? I mean, you're on for a few days 'til I hook it up?

Michael:
Uh, yeah, sure, of course. Right on.

Carole:
Right on!

[removing her top and showing her breasts]

Carole:
Sugar, don't you mean right OFF?

[Michael faints]

Carole:
Well, ain't this some sh*t.

Michael:
[first lines] What makes you happy? What makes you happy? Where do you go? Where do you go? Where do you hide? Where do you hide? Who do you see? Who do you see? Who do you trust? Who do you trust? Who do you screw? Who do you screw? What kills the pain? What kills the pain? Game up, game win. Bug around, set it straight. Transaction. Play it hard, hurts so bad. Gotta win. Everyone loses. Everthing loses. Gotta win big. Sick and tired of losing. Where does it all go? Where does it all go? Where does it lead us? Where does it lead us? Tilt City, Pinball Alley. Blinkin' lights shot to Hell, f*** it all!

Michael:
[after accidentally knocking Rosalyn off the roof] She had it coming.

Rosalyn Schecter:
What do you think of my tits, Michael?

Bongo:
Sonofabitch... this broad's got a hard-on!