Scottish Tale 
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Mack: Can't you stop being so cantankerous?
Fiona: I'm not being cantankerous.
Mack: By saying you're cantankerous you're being cantankerous.
Fiona: So I'm cantankerous. At least I didn't run over a skunk.
Ian: You can have the attention by pretending to be some tortured artist, but this dinner is for Beth and me. Not you.
Mack: Good. I'm leaving.
Mack: All due respect, old timer.
Mack: No mother ever tells their daughter, "Find yourself a nice poet to marry." It's always a doctor or a lawyer. That's why Ian's getting married. He's a lawyer.
Syd: You must be the recluse. I'm Sid Huntley, the bride's father, and this is my wife, Sarah.
Sarah: I could imagine a monk living here scribbling away on a book that no one will ever read.
Fiona: Mack lives here. He's working on a book.
Mack: Can't a guy even run over a skunk on his brother's wedding day without it being an omen?