The Foot: I'm the foot bitch!
Big Baby Chips: Get my motherfucking money.
Raw Stank: You platypus lookin motha fucka!
Dirty Sanchez: [On the town's water] It's as polluted as a fat chick's ass after running a marathon with no underwear on.
Bucky: Oh, crap.
Big Baby Chips: Big Baby Chips: You people belong to me. Forever and always.
Sugar Wolf: There is a new sheriff in town.
Big Baby Chips: If he thinks he can come between me and my motherfucking money he's wrong. Dead wrong.
Big Baby Chips: You got my money motha fucka?
Sugar Wolf: Get to steppin'.
Dusty Poot: Can a killa get a hotdog?
Sugar Wolf: [after autographing an Indian's tomahawk] Don't eBay that.
Sugar Wolf: Well, I'll be a porcupine's dickhole.
Big Baby Chips: Don't get your thongs all tangled up in this matter.
Dirty Sanchez: I am Dirty. Dirty Sanchez. I milk the sheep and give mustache rides for two bits.
The Foot: I'm The Foot, bitch!
Bucky: I read the script, and it doesn't say anything about this cowboy getting shot!
[Airplanes fly over the set during an outtake]
Big Baby Chips: Citizens of Mudbug, as you are well aware... there's an airplane in town... we're building an airport.
Big Baby Chips: [first lines; looks at cards] Ooh. Ooh, that's pretty. That's real pretty. Four naked ladies and a one-eyed jack. You got my money, motherfuckers?
Dusty Poot: Big Baby, I don't know what it is about you, but getting chips has been sho' easy with you.
Big Baby Chips: You know, you're right, Poot. It is easy getting paid in this town. Too easy, and for far too long. I sense a terrible trouble coming this way, which could mean problems, for me and my motherfuckin' moneyyyyyyyy!
Big Baby Chips: So, Mr. Stank...
Raw Stank: Yeah.
Big Baby Chips: You still in love with that whore?
Raw Stank: Man, I kiss one horse, man, and y'all are still trippin'.
Big Baby Chips: I said "whore", not "horse".
Raw Stank: Who, Miss Angel?
Big Baby Chips: Yeah.
Raw Stank: Yeah, I fingered her a couple times.
Big Baby Chips: Well, I suppose I did as well.
Raw Stank: Huh?
Sheriff Fred Freckles: Of course you know there are no guns allowed within Mud Bug city limits...
Big Baby Chips: Yeah? So?
Raw Stank: So motherfuckin' what, man?
Dusty Poot: Yeah, so the BUCK what?
Sheriff Fred Freckles: Well, it's just that I'm gonna have to ask you to hand over your weapons to me.
[entire saloon breaks out in laughter, then quiets down]
Sheriff Fred Freckles: I'm being serious now.
Big Baby Chips: Oh, okay, sheriff.
[brings out his pistol for him to take]
Big Baby Chips: Here you go.
Sheriff Fred Freckles: Thank you.
[as he reaches for it, Big Baby immediately flips it over and shoots Freckles' hat off his head, saloon laughs again]
Big Baby Chips: You know, if you weren't so damn entertaining, I'd have to KILL yo' ass!
Raw Stank: Give him his motherfuckin' money, you platypus-lookin' motherfucker!
Raw Stank: Man, I hate you, motherfucker! I hate you!
Dirty Sanchez: [as Sugar is about to drink water from the well] I wouldn't do that if I was you.
Sugar Wolf: What's it to you, hombre?
Dirty Sanchez: Look, man.
[Sanchez tosses the cup of water on the ground, where it starts hissing and steaming from deluding acid]
Sugar Wolf: Oh, shit!
Dirty Sanchez: It's better to drink in the saloon. Years ago, acid from the goldmine polluted our water. I mean, it's as polluted as a fat chick's ass after running a marathon with no underwear, man.
Sugar Wolf: Okay, Bucky, that's it, friend. You're hired, partner. Welcome aboard. You're gonna be on guard from dusk 'til dawn right here in the jailhouse.
Bucky: Oh, that's some great news, sheriff. Now I just have one question, all right, does that include not getting shot?
[Sugar pimpslaps him]
Bucky: Oh, crap!
Sugar Wolf: Why, of course not, Bucky. Don't be stupid. No deputy nighttime watchman of mine is ever gonna get shot.
Bucky: Oh, I'm not bein' stupid, I'm just wondering how do I know I'm not gonna get shot?
Sugar Wolf: Well, Bucky, I'll make you one simple promise: if you get shot and die, I'll double your paycheck.
Bucky: Oh, man, that is great, sheriff! You got yourself a deal!
[both stand and shake hands]
Sheriff Fred Freckles: Oh, for the love of chili!
Man in Outhouse: What the fuck was that? I didn't even get a chance to wipe!
Sugar Wolf: There's something running afoul here in Mud Bug... and I intend to get to the bottom of it... it smells like the bottom of Bigfoot's asshole...
Raw Stank: [while the two are in jail] Man, this is some straight up bullshit, man! Just wait 'til Big Baby come up in here and fuck you up, Sugar Waffle!
Dusty Poot: Yeah, he gon' bust yo' ass!
Raw Stank: And what's up on getting something to eat up in this bitch? I can't get no motherfuckin' rabbit? No squirrel stew? Nothin'?
Dusty Poot: Can a killa get a hot dog? Or maybe a frog at the end of that bitch-ass stick you wieldin'?
Raw Stank: And what's up on my motherfuckin' phone call?
Dusty Poot: Bitch! They ain't even invented phones yet!
Raw Stank: Not even the wind-up ones?
Raw Stank: MY FACE IS ON FIRE!
Dusty Poot: You super-slap-happy-Sugar-silly-ass-Waffle!
Sugar Wolf: It must be Friday 'cause you gettin' straight-up PAID!
Bucky: [being held at gunpoint by Stank, Poot and Hack] Guys, what about me? Can I go? These guys are going.
Raw Stank: No, we gon' keep yo' ass to send a motherfuckin' message to Sugar Waffle!
Bucky: Oh, that's great news! I take good dictation!
Dusty Poot: Good! Well, tell him we said this, bitch!
[the three open fire]
Mexican Sign Dude: [about Bucky] I'm gonna miss him, man. I'm gonna miss him. He was a good kid; had a bright future; could'a been somebody. Oh, well. Fuck him.
Dirty Sanchez: Okay, now that looks good. Oh, I like the way that looks a LOT.
Sugar Wolf: I can't wait to spread this across your buns...
Dirty Sanchez: Yeah, it's gonna be great, man. I can't wait to taste it.
Sugar Wolf: It's gonna be delicious, right across your lips...
Dirty Sanchez: Yeah. Oh, God, melt in your mouth, you know?
Sugar Wolf: Dripping down your chin across your glistening chest...
Dirty Sanchez: Yeah, naturally. I mean, that's what it does, you know? That's what happens when you make good, delicious butter. You know?
Dirty Sanchez: You're just hovering there, man! Like a hummingbird!
Raw Stank: We'll see you in ten. Any false moves before then, you'll be dead. I mean, you dead already, motherfucker, but before they square off, you'll be dead sooner!
Raw Stank: [after his belt buckle is shot and his pants drop] Huh?
Dirty Sanchez: Drop your guns, you Brokeback-Mountain sissies!
Sugar Wolf: Well, I guess that about sums that shit up. My father was nothin' but a big money rustla.
Raw Stank: Listen up, people! We got a special treat for y'all! Here, at the Mud Bug Hootenanny Hoedown!
Dusty Poot: Playin' the twin-barrel machine guns with that sweeeeeet salsa twist...
Raw Stank: Ya' big homie...
Dusty Poot: The one, the only...
Raw Stank: [in unison with Poot] ... Big Baby Chips!
Big Baby Chips: [emerges from inside the piano with machine gun in each hand] THE WICKED CLOWNS WILL NEVER DIE, MUTHAFUCKAS!