Kindergarten Cop

Joyce:
You know, kindergarten is like the ocean. You don't want to turn your back on it.

Phoebe:
You're not so tough without your car, are you?

Mitch, the Dope Dealer:
So who are you, man?

Mitch, the Dope Dealer:
Sh*t!

Detective John Kimble:
I'm the party pooper.

Detective John Kimble:
Compared to what?

Detective John Kimble:
No more complaining. No more "Mr. Kimble, I have to go the bathroom". Nothing!

Detective John Kimble:
There is no bathroom!

Joseph:
Boys have a penis, girls have a vagina!

Detective John Kimble:
Thanks for the tip.

Detective John Kimble:
We're going to play a wonderful game called..."Who is my daddy and what does he do?"

Joseph:
My dad's a gynecologist. He looks at vaginas all day long.

Detective John Kimble:
I'm a cop you idiot!

Detective John Kimble:
I Have a headache.

Lowell:
It might be a tumor.

Detective John Kimble:
It's not a tumor!

Detective John Kimble:
Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!

Miss Schlowski:
What did it feel like to hit that son of a b*tch?

Detective John Kimble:
It felt great.

Detective John Kimble:
Just don't throw up on me.

Phoebe O'Hara:
Nah, it's OK, I'm not gonna throw up on you. But I am gonna kiss you!

Detective John Kimble:
I really appreciate your honesty. You happen to know someone that is not better than me?

Dominic:
I don't know that many people.

Detective John Kimble:
Are these all your lunches?

Detective John Kimble:
You mean you eat other people's lunches?

Detective John Kimble:
STOP IT!

Detective John Kimble:
Oh, come on...

Detective John Kimble:
Stop whining! You kids are soft. You lack discipline.

Detective John Kimble:
Well, I've got news for you. You are mine now. You belong to me.

Detective John Kimble:
They're 6-year-old kids. How much trouble can they be?

Phoebe O'Hara:
On second thought, take the gun.

Cullen Crisp:
The boy's not sick.

Eleanor Crisp:
Doesn't hurt to take precautions.

Cullen Crisp:
Mother, you are going to make him sick. You stuffed all this crap down my throat for years, and there was nothing wrong with me!

Eleanor Crisp:
That's why there was nothing wrong with you.

Cullen Crisp:
Now, how can you argue with that?

Phoebe:
Well, what are you going to do? Handcuff her to the bumper of your car and take her for a ride?

Detective John Kimble:
Let's just say I'm not going to offer to cook her dinner.

Kimble:
Emma, take your toy back to the carpet.

Emma:
I'm not a policeman, I'm a princess.

Kimble:
Take your toy back to the carpet.

Emma:
I'm not a policeman, I'm a princess.

Kimble:
Take it back!

Emma:
Alright.

Police officer 1:
Drop the gun!

Police officer 2:
Yeah, that's right! Drop the gun!

Kimble:
Hey! I'm a police officer. This is an arrest.

Crisp:
This man's crazy. Look at him. He'll kill me. You're just going to stand there?

Police officer 1:
Freeze!

Police officer 2:
Jeez!

Kimble:
I'm a cop, you idiot! I'm Detective John Kimble. This man is under arrest.

Kimble:
How do I look?

Phoebe:
Take off the gun.

Kimble:
That's a good idea.

Phoebe:
Little bastards are gonna eat you alive.

Kimble:
Get some rest and don't worry. I've been working undercover for a long time. They're six-year-olds. How much trouble can they be?

Phoebe:
On second thought, take the gun.

Phoebe:
Listen, Kimble. You've gotta handle this like any other police situation. You walk into it showing fear, you're dead. And those kids know you're scared.

Kimble:
[nods] No fear.

Phoebe:
No fear.

Miss Schlowski:
Your teacher, Mrs. Hagley, had to go on an important trip for a few days.

Lisa:
Where'd she go?

Miss Schlowski:
That doesn't matter.

Lowell:
Did she die?

Miss Schlowski:
No, Lowell, she went to see someone.

Lowell:
Did they die?

Miss Schlowski:
No, Lowell.

Lowell:
Everyone dies, you know.

Kimble:
This is your new class mascot.

Boy:
What happened to your dog?

Kimble:
This is not a dog. This is a ferret.

Girl:
What's a ferret?

Kimble:
[showing them his ferret in a way] That's a ferret.

Kids:
Oh.

Lowell:
If he bites you, you get rabies and you die.

Kimble:
No, that's not true. He never bites.

Girl:
Can I pet him?

Kimble:
Sure, but one at a time, okay?

[after his first day, John comes back and collapses on his bed]

Phoebe:
How'd it go?

Kimble:
Go away.

Phoebe:
It went that well, huh?

Kimble:
You take over tomorrow.

Phoebe:
And blow our cover? Can't do it.

Kimble:
They're horrible.

Phoebe:
Tell me about it.

Kimble:
I have a headache.

Lowell:
It might be a tumor.

Kimble:
It's not a tumor! It's not a tumor at all.

Kimble:
What I meant was...you tell me...who is your daddy, and what does he do? Get it? We start right here. [points to a girl] You.

Girl 1:
My dad repairs cars driven by women who are pinheads.

Boy 1:
My dad doesn't do anything since the crash.

Girl 2:
My dad gives money to people that doesn't have money...then people use that money... then they give other money back and they give the same amount of money back to my dad.

Boy 2:
My dad doesn't live with us anymore. He lives in New York and drives a taxi. My mom hopes he's going to die real soon.

Girl 3:
My dad watches TV all day long.

Girl 4:
My dad works on computers...and he's, um, the boss of his company... and, um, he has a mustache and a beard.

Kimble:
Mm-hmm.

Girl 4:
Yeah. He doesn't have that much hair because...and he...his head is so big that he can't wear any hats.

Boy 3:
My dad's divorced. My mom's divorced.

Boy 4:
My dad, um, is a psychologist...and he helps people that are hurt or lost their feelings... and, um, that's it. Twins: Our mom says that our dad is a real sex machine.

Kimble:
Good.

Dominic:
I don't know what my dad does. I haven't seen him in a long time. He lives in France.

Boy 5:
My dad is a gynecologist...and he looks at vaginas all day long.

Miss Schlowski:
I want you to answer one more question, and don't lie. What did it feel like to hit that son of a b*tch?

Kimble:
It felt great.

Kimble:
Freeze!

[the two kissing children scream out of fright]

Kimble:
Don't you know the building is on fire?

Kissing Boy:
We-we thought it was just another drill.

Kimble:
Well, get out!

Kissing Boy:
Yes, sir.

John Kimble:
Oh, excuse me. I forgot to introduce myself. My name is John Kimble... [c*cks gun] ...and I love my car.

John Kimble:
If you don't stop screwing around back there, this is what I'm gonna do with you. [snaps pencil]

John Kimble:
Come on! Stop whining! You kids are soft. You lack discipline. Well, I've got news for you. You are mine now! You belong to me! You're not gonna have your mommies from behind you anymore to wipe your little tushies! Oh no, it's time now to turn this mush into muscles. No more complaining. No more "Mr. Kimble, I have to go to the bathroom". Nothing! There is no bathroom!!!

John Kimble:
[in German] This makes me angry as Hell! Now I'm angry!

John Kimble:
SHUT UP!!!

John Kimble:
It's not a tumor! It's not a tumor...at all.

John Kimble:
[to Eleanor] Go to Hell.

John Kimble:
[to Crisp] It's murder one this time. Now you're mine.

Cullen Crisp, Sr.:
Kimble, you've wasted years chasing after me, and what has it got you? Huh? Nothing. I'll be out of here in a week, and you'll still be eating takeout food in that dump you live in. Yeah. I know all about you, Kimble. Without me, you wouldn't even have a life. My old lady left because of the money. Yours left because she just couldn't stand the sight of you.

Cullen Crisp, Sr.:
[last words before he got shot 3 times in the chest by John Kimble, killing him] The boy... is mine! HE'S MY BOY! You get your own goddamn family!

Eleanor Crisp:
Where's my grandson?

Eleanor Crisp:
[last words before she got knocked unconscious with a baseball bat by Phoebe O'Hara and arrested for attempted murder of John Kimble] That's where you're going, you son of a b*tch!

Dominic Palmieri/Cullen Crisp, Jr.:
Mrs. Hagley is a lot better than you.