The Best Man

Quentin:
You know how many single honeys be at weddin's? It's about to be a ho-asis in that baby, honey.

Harper Stewart:
[Harper sees Lance's house for the first time and whistles] Damn, Lance! That contract is fat, huh?

Lance Sullivan:
Obese, player.

Jordan Armstrong:
You know, maybe if I had the luxury of getting my ass whooped, I could be calm right now. But I have been drinking tequila shots, my hormones are raging out of control, I'm emotional, I'm horny, and I don't wanna hear about no goddamn peas! F*** you! Good night!

Julian Murch:
Shelby, it's over. I am not the man for you and you are not the woman for me so let's just stop fooling ourselves. I hope you find what you're looking for, because that's exactly what I plan to do. I have to go. Bye, Shelby. [he goes inside the church]

Quentin:
[Q points at the ground] Don't you think you oughta pick that up?

Shelby:
[she looks down] What?

Quentin:
Your bottom jaw! [laughs hystrically]

Harper Stewart:
[Harper and Robin come up the stairs] Q! Oh, morning, Shelby.

Shelby:
Oh, go to hell! [she storms in the church]

Harper Stewart:
I'll probably see you there.

Harper Stewart:
You know what your problem is? You don't live enough for today.

Robin:
What?

Harper Stewart:
For once just live in the moment. [he gets down on one knee and takes her hand]

Robin:
Uhh, Harper, what are you doing?

Harper Stewart:
At least for a little while. Robin, will you marry me? I love you. [Robin stares at him] Please?

Robin:
[she nods] Yeah. Whatever, man.

Quentin:
Nigga, I am a pimp, so my future looks mighty bright, thank you very much.

Quentin:
This sh*t is about to be ig'nant off the hook. Luke dancers. Luke... Dancers.

Shelby:
Ah, Harper Stewart. Richard Wrong. Langston Snooze.

Harper Stewart:
Hi, Shelby.

Shelby:
I heard about your book, and I don't think it's cute Harper. You know, the next time you want to characterize me in one of your little projects, do me a favor.

Harper Stewart:
What would that be, Shelby?

Shelby:
Don't.

Lance Sullivan:
In case you didn't know, marriage is the key to promiscuity.

Quentin:
In what world?

Jordan Armstrong:
[to Harper] I want to make love to you tonight. I feel our opportunity has presented itself again, and... I don't want to miss out on it twice.

Jordan Armstrong:
So?

Mia Morgan:
So... what?

Jordan Armstrong:
So, what? Mia!

Mia Morgan:
Jordan, good girls never tell.

Jordan Armstrong:
B*tch, don't make me hurt you.

Mia Morgan:
[Smirks] What?

Jordan Armstrong:
[Glares at Mia]

Mia Morgan:
What we shared was as sweet and as endearing as a forehead kiss. It was what I wanted. It was what I needed. He was a gentleman, and a friend, and I will always love him for that.

Jordan Armstrong:
You are a family man. The press loves you. They're gonna be dying to see this!

Lance Sullivan:
No, Jordan. This is not a media event. This is our wedding day. Can you understand that?

Jordan Armstrong:
It's one camera...

Lance Sullivan:
[frustrated] Jordan!

Jordan Armstrong:
One!

Lance Sullivan:
Jordan, some things are just sacred, like between a man and a woman? Oh, I'm sorry. You wouldn't know anything about that, now would you?

Harper Stewart:
Hey, is your pops still trying to groom you for the hotel management business?

Quentin:
Yeah, for the last 20 years? I'm just not trying to hear all that stuff, you know? Dealing with complaining-a guests, unions, and payrolls, and all that...

Harper Stewart:
Yeah, too much like a real job, huh?

Quentin:
You know what, nigga? F*** you. You're my judge, right? That's your job. You judge me.

Harper Stewart:
No, I'm just playing, man...

Quentin:
No, nigga, you... it's just amazing how you've always analyzed everybody else's sh*t and then you don't do the same thing for your own self.

Harper Stewart:
Will you chill?

Quentin:
No, because you've done dirt too, motherf***er, and you're doing more dirt! That's right. You're f***ing Jordan tonight, remember? Jordan. See, you ain't any better than the rest of us, got it? Your sh*t just ain't caught you yet.

Jordan Armstrong:
[after Harper arrives bruised and bloody] So, Lance figured it out, didn't he?

Harper Stewart:
Yeah. He figured it out, promptly beat my ass, and, oh, called off the wedding.

Jordan Armstrong:
What?

Harper Stewart:
Yeah.

Jordan Armstrong:
Well, was he serious?

Harper Stewart:
I don't know. Well, he was drunk. I don't know.

Jordan Armstrong:
Oh, my God. Well, do you want me to get you anything? Are you okay?

Harper Stewart:
No, you've done enough. You've done enough. See, you don't seem to understand something. They would have been in marital bliss by the time the book was SUPPOSED to have come out! But thanks to you, Miss "I Want An Exclusive," I got my ass whupped! I almost thrown from a f***ing BUILDING because of yo ass! So, thank you, Jordan! Thank you! And what the f*** is that smell?

Jordan Armstrong:
[Fiercely slaps Harper]

Harper Stewart:
[Reacting to it] Whoo!

Jordan Armstrong:
You know, you have some nerve, blaming me for your skeletons, Mister!

Harper Stewart:
Jordan...

Jordan Armstrong:
No, I'm not done, Harper. You wrote the book. You aired your dirty laundry. No matter how hard you tried to disguise it, it was YOU! You got me all fired up saying that my life was empty and we could have been great together! That was you, okay? Not me. YOU.

Robin:
Did you sleep with her?

Harper Stewart:
No.

Robin:
But you were going to. You wanted to. [sighs] I am so disappointed in you. I know you feel like sh*t now, but I'm not going to lie to you. You compromised yourself, our relationship, and Lance and Mia's.

Harper Stewart:
I know. I know.

Robin:
[sighs] I'm glad you told me. At least now I know where I stand with you.

Robin:
No. Baby, you know that is not true.

Robin:
[Sharply] Don't! I may not be perfect, but I'm strong. I hope you can make this right. The wedding starts soon.

Harper Stewart:
How? I've been looking all over for Lance and I can't find him. And even if I was to find him, how am I supposed to convince him to get married?

Robin:
I don't know. That's your bag. I have a plane to catch.