Dutch

Doyle:
What won't make me vomit?

Dutch:
I've talked to you and talked to you until I can puke coat hangers.

Natalie:
What, to say that Reed got me pregnant while I was a barhop at your country club, married me to avoid scandal, spent the next ten years sucking the life out of me, got bored with me, dumped me, and screwed me in court? Sure, go ahead.

Natalie:
You wouldn't dare play fair, would you?

Reed:
I wouldn't dare lose.

Dutch:
I don't care for caviar, I make it a policy never to eat something a fish deposits in a riverbed.

Dutch:
Excuse me, I understand what you were saying to Natalie was personal. Well I'm involved with her now so this is personal too; you hurt her and I'll hit you so f***ing hard your dog will bleed, okay?

Dutch:
I feel the pain in my crotch in my teeth!

Dutch:
Can you say I'm sorry I hit you in the head with a golf club? Kicked your face? Mashed your testes? Shot ya twice. If that's too much, a simple hello would do.

Dutch:
I have to shoot you. Now, since we might be legally related someday, I'll give you the option of taking it on the backside. Won't hurt as bad.

Dutch:
I told your mother I'd take you home for the holidays.

Doyle:
I have plans.

Dutch:
You gonna stay here? Watch the football game on TV? Make a turkey sandwich and hang yourself in the toilet?

Doyle:
We have a very big problem here.

Dutch:
I suppose we do. I have a problem because I told your mother I'd pick you up. And you have a problem because the last guy that punched me has a dent in his forehead the size of my pinky ring, and he dribbles when he smiles.

Doyle:
My father is one of the most powerful men in this country! When he hears what you did to me, he'll sue your working-class ass into complete and total destitution!

Dutch:
How do you know I'm working-class?

Doyle:
From your cheap shoes, to your ridiculous hairstyle, to your crude vocabulary, to my mother's taste in men, you scream it.

Dutch:
And is working-class bad.

Doyle:
If you want to get into a political discussion with me, I'll shred you. No, it's not bad. A solid economy needs hand workers.

Dutch:
You might be the toughest little whacker at the junior high but in my world, you're about as worrisome as a cloudy day.

Dutch:
Frankly, I don't care if you live, die, or grow mushrooms in your crack.

Dutch:
I still owe you that shot in the ass, in case it's gnawing on your mind.

Dutch:
Nothing burps better than bacon. Your water looked tasty.

Dutch:
That's not gonna get us a ride! Come on, be pathetic! Pretend you're not gonna get ten million dollars when you're twenty-one!

Doyle:
Fireworks are illegal in Illinois.

Dutch:
Yes they are but this is Tennessee, so it doesn't matter.

Doyle:
You're gonna detonate this material now?

Dutch:
No not here in the gas station, you nuts? We'll go down the road a piece. I got M80s, Dragon Tongues, Bombay Bugles, Jersey Stinkers, Ha ha ha I don't even know what this is. For later I got a bag of pretzels and a deck of racy playing cards.

Doyle:
You're like a great big demented child.

Dutch:
Hee hee hee hee hee.

Dutch:
Listen you little son of a b*tch, you could've killed someone with a stunt like that. That poor bastard was on his way home to see his family and because you wanted to play some kind of a spoiled brat prank, you put his life in jeopardy. Now what gives you the right to do that?

Doyle:
I guess I didn't think about that.

Dutch:
Well you better start thinking about a little something else besides your own spoiled ass! I took on this idiotic assignment because I love your mother. I gotta wonder how nuts I am. Man I've met some scum in my life but you beat all, man, you are absolutely worthless. You know what, this is a full blown mission, you're not gonna beat me. I've had my head split open, my nose mashed, I've been kicked and beat and left for dead, and when I set you on your mama's doorstep, you're gonna be one whipped little puppy.

Dutch:
You really are a hypocrite aren't you? A couple 'o hookers

Dutch:
a couple 'o hookers got a set of rockets, that's okay, but everyone else who enters your station in life is scum?

Doyle:
I don't hate my mother. For the record!

Dutch:
Kiss my ass for the record!

Dutch:
You can't beat a Ford for good brakes!

Dutch:
I may not look like I could finance a trip to the zoo but the truth is I make a pretty good living. My income is a damn lot more than your father gives your mother to live on. But my money doesn't matter in your neighborhood, because I work for it. Working for your money doesn't matter in your neck of the woods, it's who's crotch the doctor yanked you out of.

Dutch:
What do you like to do for fun?

Dutch:
Oh, you like to wiggle and grunt. Me too.

Dutch:
Well, there is one thing I can do that you can't...

Doyle:
What's that?

Dutch:
Pay for my breakfast.

Like a demented child