N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #

Arnie: A toast. Death to the shitters of the world, in 1979.
Dennis: Oh, come on, Arnie. You know I can't drink to that.
Arnie: Well, what can you drink to?
Dennis: What about to us? You know, to friendship?
Arnie: Friendship. That's real good.
[They drink the toast. Arnie carelessly finishes his beer and tosses it out the window.]
Arnie: Hey, Dennis. Look. [Lets go of the wheel] Ta-daa!
Dennis: Come on!
[Dennis tries to grab the wheel, but Arnie stops him.]
Arnie: I want you to see this. I want you to see this! This is great alignment; you just don't see this anymore! Don't be scared.
Dennis: I'm scared for you, man, for what's happened to you, this ****in' car!
Arnie: I know you're jealous. But you'll be fine as long as you stick with me. And you know what happens to shitters who don't.
Dennis: No. What does happen?
Arnie: Well, let's not kid each other, Dennis.
Dennis: Who are the shitters?
Arnie: All of 'em.
Dennis: Arnie. Leigh's on your side. She cares a lot about you. She does.
[Arnie snickers, then laughs.]
Arnie: Heey! Don't you like this beer? I thought you liked beer.
Dennis: Did you hear what I just said?!
Arnie: Let me tell you a little something about love, Dennis. It has a voracious appetite. It eats everything. Friendship. Family. It kills me how much it eats. But I'll tell you something else. You feed it right, and it can be a beautiful thing, and that's what we have. You know, when someone believes in you, man, you can do anything, any ****ing thing in the entire universe! And when you believe right back in that someone, then watch out, world, because nobody can stop you then, nobody! Ever!
Dennis: You feel this way about Leigh?
Arnie: What? **** no, I'm talkin' about Christine, man! No shitter ever came between me and Christine! Now, you watch this. [Arnie puts his foot down, and Christine passes 100 miles per hour as Arnie steers into the oncoming lane. A car just manages to steer out of the way.] CHICKENSHITS! Oh man, there is nothin' finer than being behind the wheel of your own car. [Grins] 'Cept maybe for pussy.

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