Movie Quotes for One+Six+Br+pt

Frank Lapidus: Master failure, were going down.
Co-Pilot: Mayday, mayday, mayday, this is the Jet Three One Six.
  Mayday, mayday, mayday.
Voice on Radio: Four, eight, fifteen, sixteen, twenty three, forty
  two.
Frank Lapidus: Both flaps.
Co-Pilot: Airspeed: One ninety. Coming in two.

Old Rose: Fifteen-hundred people went into the sea, when Titanic sank
  from under us. There were twenty boats floating nearby... and only
  one came back. One. Six were saved from the water, myself included.
  Six... out of fifteen-hundred. Afterward, the seven-hundred people
  in the boats had nothing to do but wait... wait to die... wait to
  live... wait for an absolution... that would never come.

Lucas Luke Scott: At this moment there are six billion, five
  hundred and two million, eight hundred and sixty seven thousand,
  one hundred and twenty people in the world, give or take a few and
  sometimes all you need is one. For better or for worse.

Peyton: I didnt make it five minutes in there. Go ahead. Call me a
  baby.
Derek Sommers: I didnt come to call you a baby. Im here to
  apologize. Look, if I promise to quit being a damn jackass, you
  think you could forgive me?
Peyton: I dont know. I was kind of getting used to the yelling.
Derek Sommers: Look... I know this psychos still out there, and I
  know what he did to you, but you have a choice. You can let it
  destroy you, or you can get up and fight. And if it feels like Im
  beating up on you, its only because I want you to get so pissed
  off you start swinging back.
Peyton: Well, I dont know if Im strong enough.
Derek Sommers: If you feel like youre not strong enough, then fall
  back on me. Because Ill be here. Okay? Ill be here as long as you
  keep trying.
Peyton: You said you didnt want that.
Derek Sommers: I know. Its just I havent let many people in,
  Peyton. So maybe I was the one who was scared. Five minutes, huh?
  Tomorrow itll be six.
Peyton: Okay.
Derek Sommers: Alright.

Robin: [after using their only flare and hitting a palm tree with it]
  Oh no! Oh uh oh! Oh nuts!
Quinn Harris: [waking up still partly drunk] What the...? What the
  hell did you do? You wasted our only god damned flare to shoot a
  god damned palm tree?
Robin: I wouldnt have shot the god damned tree if you hadnt rolled
  into me. I was trying to signal the god damned plane.
Quinn Harris: What god damned plane?
Robin: [points to a commercial airliner in the sky] That god damned
  plane.
Quinn Harris: That god damned plane? Thats a commercial airliner!
  Its 5 miles high going six hundred miles an hour. They wouldnt
  see a nuclear explosion if they were looking for it, much less a
  flare!
Robin: How the hell was I supposed to know that? If you hadnt
  drunken yourself into a coma maybe you could have told me that.
Quinn Harris: You know what youve done? You know what youve done?
  Youve taken our one good chance of being found and pissed it away!
Robin: Dont you dare blame this on me. If you were half a pilot, we
  WOULDNT BE ON THIS ISLAND!
Quinn Harris: I am the best god damned pilot youll ever meet!
Robin: Hah! Ive flown with you twice, youve crashed half the time.
Robin: [Walks away, leaving Quinn confused at her logic, does a
  double take] And there is nothing wrong with my tits!

Cesar: I got one in six chances. Im gonna beat this bitch.

Bob: [referring to Rios busted gun hand] Its been six weeks. That
  hand aint gettin no better. I say we lay for Longworth with
  shotguns and then go rob that bank.
Rio: Ambushin folks aint exactly my style, Bob.
Bob: Id say your styles gettin a bit slow. We brought you along
  because youre supposed to be the big man with the iron; but now, I
  think I could even out pull you.
Rio: [Putting his hand on his gun butt] Youre probably right, Bob.
  You probably could get six into me by the time I get that one into
  you.

Bob: We brought you along because youre supposed to be the big man
  with the iron; but I think now I could even out pull you.
Rio: Youre probably right, Bob. You probably could put six in me by
  the time I put that one into you.

[Strong Bad has been asked via email from Molly T. on how to do a
  middle-school-appropriate diorama]
Strong Bad: No sense in thinking about this one until youre on the
  bus on the way to school the morning its due. Then its time to
  whip out my old standby-orama: the whimsical world of school
  supplies! But dioramas shouldnt be wasted, Mollyman. This is
  probably the only school-approved opportunity to melt small plastic
  animals and shame our beloved literary characters that youre ever
  gonna get. I say embrace it! I say deface it! Here are my tips:
  first off, behind every good diorama is an even gooder... [sic]...
  shoebox. So unless you wanna get called The Stride-Rite Kid for the
  rest of your life, you better go buy a pair of the coolest, most
  expensive shoes on the market. Or at least modify a box of cheapo
  generic shoes to look expensive.

Beth Raymond: [to Leann about Shelley Baums funeral] Hey. How was
  it?
Leann Cole: It was a funeral. It sucked.
Leann Cole: From now on, I only go to parties where no one gets
  cremated.
Beth Raymond: How are Shelleys parents?
Leann Cole: Considering their 24-year-old daughter drowned in the
  backyard pond. Theyre great.
Beth Raymond: And you?
Leann Cole: I knew Shelley. We interned at Saint Lukes together. I
  mean, she was not crazy.
Beth Raymond: I know but the way she was talking at the end was
  pretty...
Leann Cole: Yeah, that doesnt mean she killed herself. [Leanns
  phone rings]

Sheilynn: Alright people, let’s give it up one more time...and for
  everyone thats performed for you so far tonight. We are going to
  take a quick break Please remember to tip your waitress. That would
  be me. So tip me, or I will spit in youre drink. Im just
  kidding...about the spitting, not the tipping.

Migz: [to Joy] I promise to love you, and to take care of you. You
  are my one true love.

[Coach Zs Nicetown Players perform a skit about being nice]
Coach Z: Oh, man. What a great pratty. I wonder what kids house this
  is.
Marzipan: I wonder if he likes me. Will I make the team? I wish my
  parents would stop fighting.
Strong Mad: Is this my cue?
Coach Z: Hey, Pants Pull-Upper! Nice pulled-up... pants!
Marzipan: I shouldnt laugh, but I want to fit in. Good one, Head
  Male Cheerleader!
[Strong Mad runs away crying]
Coach Z: My parents room is out of town in my car. Wanna go park
  out?
Marzipan: But what about that poor nerd?
Coach Z: Ah, who cares about...
[Strong Mad runs back in swinging a spiked baseball bat, but the
  scene freezes right before Coach Z and Marzipan get hit]
Marzipan: This is why besing mean is not always the best choice.
[Strong Mad continues to tap Coach Z with the bat while Marzipan
  talks]

[Strong Bad is checking an email from work]
E-mail: Dear Strong Bad, if you could have any job in the whole
  world, regardless of how much it pays, what would you have? From
  The Nitwon.
[Strong Bad pronounces "Nitwon" as "Nittle One", then types his
  response]
Strong Bad: You ask like I havent told you guys a million times...
  Id be a 2nd 2nd Assistant Space Whale Scrubber! Cause those are
  the ones that get to wear that glittery pantsuit and use a lazormop
  to scrub all the nudules and crudules off the whales dorsal ridge!
[Nothing happens]
Strong Bad: Umm, shouldnt we be seeing some of this by now?
Bubs: [walking up behind Strong Bad, mimicking a buzzer] Baaghh!
  Sorry, Strong Bad. The suits had me install a firewall on your
  imagination! All that free thinking was wasting the companys cost
  money.
Strong Bad: Oh, thats it! Im totally never gonna quit this job, but
  start complaining about it a little bit more!
Bubs: [walking off] Well, Id better get back to tasering that gnome!
  Er, I mean, upgrading the tasering that gnome!... server.

[Coach Z begins vacuuming while Strong Bad answers an email at work]
Coach Z: Hey there, salaried employee.
Strong Bad: [groans] Sup, hourly wage?
Coach Z: I couldnt help but notice youre checkin one a yer emails
  there. Boy, do I have some good ideas for words to type in an
  email.
Strong Bad: Yeah, sorry, Im not really takin suggestions right now.
Coach Z: Aww, dats too bad. Sure would be unfarchunate if yer boss
  found out you was checkin yer Sbemails at work!
Strong Bad: All right, all right! What do you want me to type?
Coach Z: Ooh, great! Okay, lets see... P... f... a... r... g... t...
  l? Is that a word?
Strong Bad: Pfargtl?
Coach Z: Yeah! Is that a word?
[Strong Bad hits his head on the keyboard]
Strong Bad: Does it *sound* like a word?
Coach Z: Well I dunno. I only know a few.

Daphne: Hey, gals! Lets towel off and meet up at Strong Bads Strong
  Badian Pizza...
Cheerleader: This is taking too long!
Whats Her Face: Im already bored!
So and So: Im going home!
The Ugly One: I belong in a museum!

[a meeting of The Deleteheads, a Strong Bad fan club presided by
  Strong Sad, is about to start]
Strong Sad: [to the other members, which include Strong Mad and The
  Cheat] All right, deleteheads. Its been a big week for the fan
  club. We finally switched over our web hosting from Geofire to
  Angelcities. And theyve upgraded all of our dead links to
  hyperlinks. We also had several interesting discussions in the
  ongoing debate series, "Non Sequitur Champion: Cardgage or Homsar".
Homsar: [also a member] My names Millions, and Im the son of a
  Chipwich.
Strong Sad: Well, debates over. Oh, and I just received confirmation
  today that Abdi LaRue, sender of the first Strong Bad Email, is a
  lock for this years FHQWHfest. And theres a rumor going around
  that Stro Bro himself might show up to sign autographs! [Strong Bad
  walks by behind him as he and The Cheat carry a really long sub
  sandwich]
Strong Bad: Yeah... Im not comin.
Strong Sad: Dont forget to bombard Strong Bad with emails on Sunday
  night. I think we should go with asking about Bubs first wife.
  Some good potential there. She was a real firebrand, that one!

Strong Bad: [talking about R-rated movies] The only thing better than
  R-rated movies are double and triple R-rated movies! Let me break
  down the subtle differences for you. In an R-rated movie, the good
  guy only blows people up in self-defense. But double R-rated movies
  are allowed to blur the line! Man, I saw this one double R-rated
  movie, where the good guy stepped on this rabbit, and he didnt
  kill it, but then later on in the movie, he wished he did! The
  *good guy*! Thats messed up, man! You cant let kids watch that
  kind of thing! Then in triple R-rated movies, you can show bullets
  go all the way through people! In the front, through their guts and
  organs and breakfast and RIGHT OUT the BACK! That is nasty, man!
[a green movie rating card with a rating of "RRR" is shown]
Strong Bad: Theres some triple R-rated stuff out there that even I
  cant stomach.

Strong Bad: [singing] Email, Im so in love with you its kind of
  inappropriate!
E-mail: [with Strong Bad reading] Helllooooooo Strongbad, I was
  wondering if Strongbadia had a miniature golf course because I
  think it would be cool if Strongbadia had a miniature golf course.
  Hoping to play the Strongbadia miniature golf course soon, Somebody
  no-one cares about in IA.
Strong Bad: [after reading "Somebody no-one cares about in IA"] Also
  known as, Everyone in Iowa. [typing response] What, are you getting
  paid every time you say the words miniature golf course? Because
  Id, miniature golf course, like to get in on that ac-miniature
  golf course-tion. Of, miniature golf course, course, I dont sell
  out for cheap. I usually get Kozmik Bowling 50 bucks everytime I
  That Paintball Place Down the Street mention some kind of
  Waterslide Dans MoistWorld fun-time emporium. [the new paper that
  closes the email comes down] No, no, no! Not now! Did that sound
  like I was done? Get back up there! [the paper goes back up]

[Strong Bad continues his discussion on his wrestling careers
  costumes and gimmicks]
Strong Bad: Once I started getting more popular, my next incarnation
  was...
[cut to a school gym as Strong Bad as wrestler Il Cartographer
  enters]
Announcer: And hailing from the age of exploration, the namer of
  nations, Il Cartographer!
The King of Town: [offscreen] Boo!
Singers: Il Cartographer! Hes makin the maps! Il Cartographer! Hes
  takin no crap!
[Strong Bad as Il Cartographer walks to a wrestling ring in the room,
  tossing various maps around as he goes]
Strong Bad: [narrating] And one of my gimmicks was that Id always
  come into the ring throwing maps to the restrooms into the crowd!
[Strong Bad arrives at the ring and holds out a flag]
Strong Bad: [poor Italian accent] I claim-a this saggy ring in the
  name of Il Cartographer!
The King of Town: Boo!

E-mail: [with Strong Bad reading] Dear Strongbad, what do you want
  for Decemberween? your holiday spirit Talon Jendro, Des Moines, IA.
  [Strong Bad does not read "Des Moines, IA"]
Strong Bad: [typing response] Whered you get that name? George
  Lucas? Talon Jen-dro from the computery generated planet of Des
  Moi-nesia. Anyways, everybody knows the kind of stuff I want,
  Talon. A catapult that launches balls of cobras, chainsaw car,
  subscription to EGM2, hot step-sister. That email writes itself.
  Its more important that I establish what I *dont* want for
  Decemberween. [Cut to Strong Bad and Marzipan on a shopping
  channel] Our first item is a perennial all-star of bad awful
  Decemberween presents: the ornament
Marzipan: Theres no better way to say, "I have no idea what your
  interests are" than to give someone a present that ceases to be
  useful the moment its opened.
Strong Bad: Yes, theres nothing like opening a gift just in time to
  put it in a box in the attic for a year. And next Decemberween,
  when you get it back out, guess what? Its still just a cool
  snowman surfing the Internet.
Marzipan: Internet is *so* hot this year. [a phone rings]
Strong Bad: Oh, we got a caller. [he puts an empty hand next to his
  head] Go ahead, caller. How many F-R-one-one-four-P-D-C-eights
  should I put you down for?
Strong Sad: [on the "phone"] Strong Bad, did you put wildebeest
  pheromones in my laundry again? [wildebeest noises are heard over
  the phone] Augh! [the dial tone is heard]
Strong Bad: Another satisfied customer.

Homestar Runner: [to Strong Bad on love poems] Everybody knows Im
  the only one around here with any real no-arms-on experience with
  the lady-makes. Just listen to this little make-out inducing number
  I threw together this monin! [singing and dancing] This monin!
  [Strong Bad dances with him] This mo, re-mo, re-mo-monin!
Strong Bad: All right, but only cause that little song was kinda
  cool. [Homestar clears his throat and holds a piece of paper with
  the word "MARZIPAN" written on it]
Homestar Runner: "M" is for milk, the real stuff, not soy. "A" is for
  not-organic apples; pesticides ahoy! "R" is for raisins; they give
  me bad gas. "Z" is too hard, so at this one, Ill pass. "I" is for
  inchiladas! [sic] And...
Strong Bad: [upset] Homestar!
Homestar Runner: Yeah, whats up?
Strong Bad: Thats not a love poem; that is a lavishly produced
  grocery list!
Homestar Runner: No, heres my grocery list. [produces another piece
  of paper] Amazing thing, amazing thing, amazing thing, amazing
  thing.
Strong Bad: Whoa, where you been shopping?
Homestar Runner: SkyMall.

Strong Bad: [talking about annoying moviegoers] It begins with the
  genius who cant resist answering the oh-so-challenging film trivia
  slides they show before the movie. [the Homestar characters are in
  the theater, looking at the screen]
Coach Z: Oh, I know this one! Pan-and-scan! The Brat Pack! Spencer
  Tracy!
Strong Bad: [sitting behind him] Real impressive, Ebert. Weve only
  seen this slide ten times since we all sat down.
Announcer: [on movie screen] If you answered "B", youre ready for
  film school.
[the movie screen displays a "Movie & Refreshment Trivia" slide,
  whose correct answer is apparently "B: Ice Cold Refreshment"]
Coach Z: [hitting himself] Aw, it was "Ice Cold Refreshment". I
  shouldve known.

Strong Bad: [reading email] "Hey Strong Bad, me and some of my
  friends are thinking of doing a web comic together and I was
  wondering if you had any suggestions for us. Thanks a lot" [stops
  reading; under his breath]... for not using punctuation. [resumes
  reading] "Gunkiller..." [he pronounces it as "Gunk-iller"]
  "Standing right behind you." [typing response] Who are you,
  Gunhavers evil twin brother? Well I wont be needing your services
  today; all my gunk is plenty ill already. Web comics are easy,
  Gunky. Theyre all about video games, gamernerds, webgeeks,
  dorknerds, gamewads, nerdgames, webwebs, and elves. So just pick
  one of those and start tableting! Like the one where the slickly
  drawn college roommates make nothing but video game inside jokes!
[a comic involving two people vaguely resembling Strong Bad and
  Strong Sad is shown]
Strong Bad: [in comic] Uh, did you try to case mod that meatloaf
  youre makin?
Strong Sad: [in comic] No, why?
Strong Bad: [in comic; holding up a burnt brick] Cause I think its
  BRICKED!
[both characters now look wide-eyed]
Strong Sad: 3.2ghz cell processor with 3 dual-threaded cores, 1.8
  TFLOPS, 256mb XDR... [this overlaps with:]
Strong Bad: Light bloom, floating point frame buffers, volumetric
  effects, high dynamic range rendering...
Strong Bad: [voiceover] Oh, I wish knew what that means.

Strong Bad: One of our primary unlicensed licensees is shady
  daycares. You know, the kind that are open 24 hours and are
  surrounded by barbed wire. [a daycare center called Papa Cardgages
  Puddin Patch is depicted] They *love* to illegally use trademarked
  characters to earn desperate parents trust.
Senor Cardgage: [inside the daycare, singing to "Frère Jacques"]
  Where is Tompkins? Where is coleslaw? Here I am...
Strong Bad: Man, if I ever have kids, I cant wait to drop em off at
  the puddin patch every morning on my way to the dog tracks!