Harry: Hey, I like your cardboard armor.

Vernon: It's protection from infection.

Vernon: Justine... How are you, doll?

[plants a kiss on her hand]

Vernon: As gorgeous as ever! Well you've uh put on a bit of weight. Did someone impregnate you?

Justine: [calmly] Fuck off.

Vernon: Good, there is still a chance.

Stevo: What the fuck is that accent?

[last lines]

Justine: About dinner... Can I take a raincheck?

Chris: Hey, you take what you want, girl.

Justine: Here he is!

Ord: Thousand apologies. Hate it when people are tardy. It's good to meet you boys.

[shakes Chris's hand]

Ord: Thanks for coming out.

[extends his hand to Frank, who doesn't reciprocate]

Ord: You didn't masturbate before you got here, did you?

Frank: What?

Justine: [laughs nervously]

Ord: Told you I don't work with anybody who's carrying a loaded weapon.

Chris: Fuck the small talk. Let's buy some guns, eh?

Vernon: Check out the merch.

Justine: That's not what he ordered.

Vernon: Fuck me...

Chris: He ordered M-16's. Different weapon.

Vernon: I'm not driving a fucking pizza delivery service!

Martin: Keep your shit together.

Vernon: You want the weapons? Or you don't want the weapons?

Justine: Ugh, men.

Chris: Your not FBI are you?

Justine: I'm I.I.F.M.

Chris: What?

Justine: In it for myself.

Justine: Uh! It's cold.

Frank: You think this is cold sweetheart. You should try Holywood in February. Freeze the tits off a brass witch

Ord: The only thing a girl needs to stay warm in Los Angeles is a flexible outlook.

Frank: I'm not talking about your Hollywood. I'm talking about the real Holywood. Holywood, County Down, Northern Ireland.

Ord: You guys got a Holywood too! That's great. That's what I like about this business. It could be financially rewarding and you can still learn something new everyday.

Frank: Stick to your ABC's son

Chris: Right, introductions, yeah?

Ord: [looking behind him] Come out, come out wherever you are.

Stevo: FYI your breath stinks of shit and you have a serious case of BO!

[first lines]

Bernie: [honking at the car in the front] Move your fat a**!

Stevo: Shut the f**k up, Bernie! My f**king head is about to explode here.