Jeff:
Don't let the little head do the thinking for the big head.

Roy L. Fuchs:
I'll tell you something. This country is going to the dogs. You know, it used to be when you bought a politician, that son of a bitch stayed bought.

Jim the Mechanic:
Maroon car, my ass. This motherfucker's red.

Rudy:
So. Roy L... What can I do you for?

Roy L. Fuchs:
Uhhh... I'd like to talk to my brother.

Rudy:
Well, you're gonna have to talk kinda loud. He left for Miami late last night.

Roy L. Fuchs:
Miami?

Rudy:
Yeah. Miami Beach.

Roy L. Fuchs:
Miami Beach?

Jeff:
Florida.

Roy L. Fuchs:
I know where the fuck Miami Beach is, dummy.

Mr. Chartner:
What have I done to the children?

Rudy:
You've seen how bad business is. We had nun; nuns, protesting in front of the dealership this morning.

Jeff:
Nuns?

Rudy:
Yeah. I had to get Jim to turn the fire hose on them.

Big Jim:
Yeah. And I knocked them motherfuckers on they asses, too.

Jeff:
For Christ's sake, we're fuckin' with the President of the United States.

Rudy:
He fucks with us, doesn't he?

Luke Fuchs:
$10,000. Is that all it takes to be elected senator these days.

Rudy:
Well, that's more like a down payment. After I'm elected its 50-50 on all the graft I take.

Judge H. H. Harrison:
For uttering those contemptuous words in my presences, I'm goin' to have your balls in a sling.

Roy L. Fuchs:
I can't believe you got Hangin' Judge Harrison. He's not on the take; he's legit.

Sam Slaton:
Remember that colored kid that got caught stealing a case of beer?

Roy L. Fuchs:
Billy Ray Washington?

Sam Slaton:
Harrison gave him thirty years hard labor. You need somebody who'll throw the book at this broad. I've paid off all the experts, all the witnesses; I've even got her lawyer on my payroll. Trust me, Roy. I can win this case.

Rudy:
Trust me.

Barbara Jane Fuchs:
Come down and see the mile of cars we have on our lot.

Rudy:
Did she just say "mile of cars"? She said "mile of cars".

Big Jim:
Most blatant case of false advertising I even did see.

Judge H. H. Harrison:
I know you're seeing the same thing with those beady little eyes I'm seeing, Mr. Slaton. That sure does look like a mile of cars to me.

Rudy:
You're going to love it, Stan. Trust me.

Rudy:
Ah, shit! There goes a perfectly good bumper sticker.

Roy L. Fuchs:
Now aren't you a little big to be playing in the fucking mud?

Rudy:
Luke told me that if you came around here to have you arrested for trespassing. Now, are you going to leave, or are we going to have to call the cops?

Jeff:
Yeah, do we have to call the cops?

Roy L. Fuchs:
What are you, a fucking parrot?

Sam Slaton:
Come on, Roy. Let's go.

Roy L. Fuchs:
Suck-ass son of a bitch.

FBI Inspector:
You want to give me that again?

Jeff:
Uh, well, yes. As I say, Inspector, I heard this large explosion and I rushed out, I couldn't tell what was going on. I saw the car over there in flames and all these strange little characters, you know, with towels on their heads, weird little goatees and stuff, running around yelling: "Ayatollah, Ayatollah." Then they all got in a car and drove away. I guess it was Iranian students out to discredit the American way of life. I can't imagine who else would do such a thing.

Rudy:
Manuei! What the hell are you using; water based paint?

Manuel:
Sure. How much rain do we get around here anyway? If you don't like these, I'll get you some others. Here is my inventory.

Rudy:
Manuel, this is a picture of 250 cars. I can't make a deal on a picture. Take these around back and I'll think of something.

Mickey:
Hey, Old Man; what's the deal on this '57 Chevy? $2700! You got to be jackin' me!

Luke Fuchs:
Believe it or not, that car is one of the finest cars on this lot.

Mickey:
How does it run?

Luke Fuchs:
Like a dream.

Mickey:
I'll tell you, Old Man; for $2700, it better run like a wet dream.