Ernest Goes to Jail

Ernest Goes to Jail quotes

32 total quotes (ID: 1034)

Charlotte Sparrow (Miss Sparrow)
Ernest P. Worrell
Felix Nash
Warden Carmichael

Ernest P. Worrell: Peter Pan, eat your heart out! (hums)
Felix Nash: Here, have a seat! [Throws a chair at Ernest]

Charlotte Sparrow (Miss Sparrow): [Thinking Nash is Ernest] What happened to your voice? You sound different.
Felix Nash: Oh, I got a little laryngitis.

Ernest P. Worrell [After drying himself off with his body dryer and checking the circuit board]: Oh, there's my problem right there. This wire's got a little sh...
[Gets electricuted]
Ernest P. Worrell: ...short in it.
[A metal comb clings to his vest]
Ernest P. Worrell: Gosh, not again.

I've never been inside a restaurant that doesn't have a drive-thru window before.

Look, I'm not this guy Nash!

We're sorry, Ernest, Bobby didn't know the mace can was loaded.

Don't worry about that diet, tubby. Once I set this fuse, you'll lose all that weight.

This guy is better off in jail.

Is everyone who works here a moron?

This guy is in love! L-U-V! Ernest is in love. Ernest and Charlotte sittin' in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G, first comes love, then comes marriage, then comes Ernest pushing a baby carriage!

Rubin Bartlett: Not so fast!
Ernest P. Worrell [After being 'resurrected' by the electric chair and is stopped by Rubin Bartlett from leaving]: You better watch out Rubin. I'll zot you.
Rubin Bartlett: You're a dead man, Worrell.
Ernest P. Worrell: Very well. You know I am Ernest P. Worrell, electro-man. [His electrical flux fails and several metal things stop clinging and fall off his body] A-hih-heh-hih-hih! You know, you have a classic Greek profile.
Rubin Bartlett: Come on, Lyle, we gotta get rid of this guy before he blows the whole thing!

Ernest, we're late for work!

Ernest P. Worrell: You see that guy?
Prison guard: Yeah, so?
Ernest P. Worrell: He's not on the jury duty, because this man is a prisoner!
Prison guard (Thinking Ernest is Nash): Ugh! I oughta throw in the hole for that Nash!
Ernest P. Worrell: The hole?
Prison guard: Yeah! The hole!
Ernest P. Worrell: The hole like, like in "Solitare the Hole" Like, in a real prison? Like in real, really, really, really, really real prison? The hoose-gow, the slammer, the joint, Alcatraz, San Quentin, Sing Sing, Oh no. I'm in... I'm in... jaaaaaaaaaa-jail-jail-jail!
Prison guard: (laughs sternly)
[Note: The three ["jail"]'s following his yelling refers to echoes that are heard after the camera has panned far out.]

Here, I'll help you up!

Rubin Bartlett: [Thinking Ernest is Nash] Did you miss me, Mister Nash?
Cell Guard: Close C-12!
Ernest P. Worrell: You, you know I'm not Nash!
Rubin Bartlett: Of course you are! Ernest!