Hot Fuzz

Hot Fuzz quotes

94 total quotes (ID: 277)

Danny Butterman
Multiple Characters
Nicholas Angel
Simon Skinner


Dr. Robin Hatcher: I told him several times that you shouldn't eat late at night.
PC Doris Thatcher: I don't know. Quite like a little midnight gobble. Ha ha!
PC Bob Walker: ****s.


Inspector Frank Butterman: Your predecessor assumed rural policing was easy. Ended up having a nervous breakdown, and Sergeant Popwell was an exceptional officer. Truly exceptional. But he had one thing you haven't got.
Nicholas Angel: What's that, sir?
Inspector Frank Butterman: [jovially] A GREAT BIG BUSHY BEARD!

Joyce Cooper: [appears from behind a car during the climatic shootout, moments before firing a machine gun at Angel] FASCIST!
Nicholas Angel: [after defeating her] HAG.

Leslie Tiller: You know that feller who blew up?
Nicholas Angel: George Merchant?
Leslie Tiller: Well, George Merchant- God rest him- wanted to buy this land, so he sent round his legal fella, Martin Blower- God rest him. I thought I might take them up on it, as I haven't really got much family round here, save my cousin Sissy, so I thought I might take them up on the offer and move to Buford Abbey. Would you like a card with this?
Nicholas Angel: No, sorry, you were talking about the offer?
Leslie Tiller: Well, it turns out that Martin Blower- God rest him- knew where the new bypass road was going, because he was knocking off Eve Draper from the council- God rest her. And then that reporter- God rest him- finds out about the route and tells me this land is very valuable, ten times what George Merchant and Martin Blower- God rest them- offered me. So with them up and passed on, I decided to sell it on myself to some folks from the city that Martin, George and Eve- God rest them- had all been talking to. Apparently they want to build a big shopping center or something. Course, cousin Sissy won't be too happy about that but, as far as I am concerned, cousin Sissy can go and fu--
Nicholas Angel: Would you excuse me for just one second?

Met Sergeant: Hello, Nicholas.
Nicholas Angel: Hello, Sergeant.
Met Sergeant: How's the hand?
Nicholas Angel: Still a bit stiff.
Met Sergeant: It can get awfully hairy out there. I'm surprised you weren't snapped up sooner for a nice desk job, that's what I did.
Nicholas Angel: I like to think my office is out on the street.
Met Sergeant: Indeed you do. Your arrest record is 400% higher than any other officer, which is high time such skills were put to better use. We're making you Sergeant.
Nicholas Angel: I see. Where?
Met Sergeant: In Sandford, Gloucestershire.
Nicholas Angel: But that's... in the country?
Met Sergeant: Yes! Lovely.
Nicholas Angel: Isn't there a Sergeant's position here in London?
Met Sergeant: No.
Nicholas Angel: Can I remain here as a PC?
Met Sergeant: No.
Nicholas Angel: Do I have any choice in this?
Met Sergeant: No!
Nicholas Angel: Sergeant, I kinda like it here.
Met Sergeant: Well, you've always wanted a transfer to the country.
Nicholas Angel: In twenty years or so, yes.
Met Sergeant: Well done you.

Nicholas Angel: [Angel puts some coins in the swear box] Leslie Tiller was ****ing murdered!
DC Andy Cartwright: What, just like Tim Messenger?
Nicholas Angel: Yes!
DS Andy Wainwright: George Merchant?
Nicholas Angel: Yes!
DC Andy Cartwright: Eve Draper?
Nicholas Angel: Yes!
DS Andy Wainwright: Martin Blower?
Nicholas Angel: No, actually.
DS Andy Wainwright and DC Andy Cartwright: Really?
Nicholas Angel: 'Course he ****ing was! [Danny puts money in the swear box] Thank you Danny!
DC Andy Cartwright: Murder, murder, murder. Change the ****in' record! [DS Wainwright puts money in the swear box] Thank you Andy.
Sergeant Tony Fisher: Come on Sergeant, you've gotta accept that it was just another nasty accident.
Nicholas Angel: What are you suggesting?! That Leslie Tiller tripped and fell on her own shears?
Seargent Tony Fisher: Ben Fletcher fell on his pitchfork the other week.
PC Doris Thatcher: Yeah, accidents happen all the time. What makes you think it was MURDER?
Nicholas Angel: BECAUSE I WAS THERE!!!
DS Andy Wainwright: There's a point. Why were you there?
Nicholas Angel: I was buying... Constable Butterman a Japanese peace lily for his birthday.
DC Andy Cartwright: What absolute 'orseshit!
Nicholas Angel: I chased a suspect from the scene! Innocent people don't run!
Seargent Tony Fisher: Maybe it was our ol' friend the Cactus Theif?
PC Doris Thatcher: Oh yeah, he was a prickly customer, weren't he? Ha ha!
Nicholas Angel: AM I GOING COMPLETELY MAD?!
DC Andy Cartwright: [Robert De Niro impression] Maybe you are. Maybe you did it.
DS Andy Wainwright: Seeing how you're such a big fan of murder!
Nicholas Angel: WHAT THE F--
Frank Butterman: Sergeant Angel?
Nicholas Angel: YES! [calms down] Sir?

Nicholas Angel: How can this be for the greater good?
NWA Members: [chanting] The greater good.
Nicholas Angel: SHUT IT! These people died for no reason! No reason whatsoever!
Inspector Frank Butterman: I wouldn't say that. [Nicholas turns and is shocked] Hello Nicholas. I was like you once. I believed in the immutable word of the law. That is until the night Mrs. Butterman was taken from me. You see, no one loved Sandford more than her. She was head of the Women's Institute, chair of the Floral Committee. When they started the Village of the Year Contest, she worked around the clock. I'd never seen such dedication. But on the eve of the adjudicator's arrival, some travelers moved into Calahoo Park, and before you could say gypsy scum we were knee deep in dog muck, thieving kids and crusty jugglers.
NWA Members: [chanting] Crusty jugglers.
Inspector Frank Butterman: We lost the title, and Irene lost her mind. She drove her Datsun Cherry into Sandford Gorge... and from that moment on, I swore that I would do her proud and whatever the cost, we would make Sandford great again.
Nicholas Angel: Sir, this doesn't make any sense.
Inspector Frank Butterman: The adjudicators arrive tomorrow. We had to get everything ready.
Nicholas Angel: [disgusted] Are you saying this is all about winning the Best Village award?
Inspector Frank Butterman: This is the Best Village, Nicholas. You've seen the people. They're happy. Contented.
Nicholas Angel: They're living in a dream world!
Inspector Frank Butterman: Sergeant Popwell thought much the same as you. I'm disappointed you can't see the bigger picture.
Nicholas Angel: Well I'm happy to disappoint you, sir! You're going to have to come with me, you are all going to have to come with me.
Inspector Frank Butterman: No Nicholas, I'm afraid it is you who is going to have to come with us...

Nicholas Angel: I didn't mean to upset the apple cart.
DS Andy Cartwright: [sarcastic] Yeah, cause we all sell apples round here, don't we?
Danny Butterman: Your dad sells apples, Andy.
DC Andy Cartwright: And raspberries.
DS Andy Wainwright: I bet you can't wait to jump into Sergeant Popwell's grave.
Nicholas Angel: I'm not jumping into anyone's grave.
[DC Andy Wainwright drinks some of his beer, leaving a white trail over his large mostache]
Nicholas Angel: You've got a moustache.
DC Andy Wainwright: I know.

Peter Ian Staker: [on the phone, politely] Morning, the swan's escaped.
Nicholas Angel: [looking around the office, certain it is a prank] The swan's escaped. Right, and where has the swan escaped from, exactly?
Peter Ian Staker: The castle.
Nicholas Angel: Oh yeah, and who might you be?
Peter Ian Staker: Mr. Staker. Mr. Peter Ian Staker.
Nicholas Angel: [annoyed] PI Staker? Right, pisstaker! Come on!
[cut to Angel, standing outside the castle in front of Peter Ian Staker]
Nicholas Angel: Yes Mr. Staker, we'll do everything we can. Can you describe it?
Peter Ian Staker: It's about two-feet tall, long slender neck, kinda orange and black bill...
Nicholas Angel: Anything else?
Peter Ian Staker: Well... it's a swan.

Reverend Phillip Shooter: Stop! Stop this, please! Let us stop this mindless violence! Nicholas my son, you may not be a man of God, but surely you are a man of peace.
Nicholas Angel: I may not be a man of god, Reverend, but I know right, and I know wrong, and I have the good grace to know which is which.
Reverend Phillip Shooter: Oh... **** off, grasshopper! [produces two deringers from his robe sleeves and shoots Nicholas]
Danny Butterman: NO! [shoots the Reverend]
Reverend Phillip Shooter: Jesus Christ!
Danny Butterman: NICHOLAS! [Nicholas looks up at him] I thought you was a goner.
Dr. Hatcher: DROP YOUR WEAPONS!
Danny Butterman: Doctor Hatcher, no!
Dr. Hatcher: Shut up, Danny! I brought you into this world, I think its rather fitting that I should be the one to take you out of it. Now... drop 'em.
[Danny throws his shotgun to the ground and it fires, blowing off Hatcher's toe] OWWW!!!
Nicholas Angel: You're a doctor. Deal with it.
Danny Butterman: Yeah, mother****er.
Nicholas Angel: Danny, let's roll.
Danny Butterman: What you thinking?
Nicholas Angel: Pub?

Sergeant Tony Fisher: Must have hit the sign at some speed. Took the whole top off.
PC Doris Thatcher: I've had my top off in this lay-by. Ha ha!
PC Bob Walker: Tits.
Sergeant Tony Fisher: Most likely lost control here, left the road there, and ended up... here.

Simon Skinner: [over the walkie talkie] Michael? Michael! Are you there? Micheal! Is everything okay?
Nicholas Angel: [immitating Lurch] Yarp.
Simon Skinner: Sergeant Angel's been taken care of?
Nicholas Angel: Yarp.
Simon Skinner: He's not gonna get back up again?
Nicholas Angel: [nervously] Narp?
Simon Skinner: Good.

Simon Skinner: [Punching Angel with each word] GET...OUT...OF MY...VILLAGE!!!
Nicholas Angel: [Grabs Skinner's fist] IT'S NOT YOUR VILLAGE ANYMORE!!! [Uppercuts him into a model building]

Simon Skinner: Lock me up.
Nicholas Angel: I'm sorry?
Simon Skinner: I'm a slasher, and I must be stopped.
Nicholas Angel: You're a what?
Simon Skinner: A slasher... of prices! Ha ha ha, just kidding! I'm Simon Skinner, and I run the local Supermarche. Stop in and see me some time. My discounts are criminal! Catch me later!

Simon Skinner: You see, much as I enjoyed your wild theories Sergeant, the truth is far less complex. Blower's fate was simply the result of his being... an appalling actor.
Nicholas Angel: You murdered him for that?
Simon Skinner: He murdered Bill Shakespeare.
Nicholas Angel: What? Oh.
Annette Roper: Martin Blower was less concerned with the reputation of the village than he was with his sordid affair with Eve Draper!
Nicholas Angel: So Eve deserved to die too?
Dr. Robin Hatcher: Well, she did have a very annoying laugh.
Nicholas Angel: George Merchant?
Simon Skinner: He had an awful house.