Jupiter Jones: Stinger said that you attacked an entitled once.
Caine Wise: Stinger talks too much.
Jupiter Jones: Is it true?
Caine Wise: Does it matter?
Jupiter Jones: Sorry, I get it’s none of my business. I was just trying to understand.
Caine Wise: Look, the truth is I don’t know why I did it. I. . .I don’t even remember doing it. It just happened.
Jupiter Jones: We all do things we can’t explain.
Caine Wise: They said it was in my genes. A defect of my genome engineering.
Jupiter Jones: Could explain a lot of things about me. Like the fact that I have an uncanny ability to fall for men that don’t fall for me. It’s like my internal compass needle points straight at Mr. Wrong. Maybe it’s my genes. Maybe I have defective engineering too. And if that’s the case is there any way to fix it?
Caine Wise: You are royalty now. I’m a splice. You don’t understand what that means, but I have more in common with a dog than I have with you.
Jupiter Jones: I love dogs, I’ve always loved dogs.
Mike: So the Kid said something about breakfast.
Brooke: Uh, well, he must be fucking drunk because I don’t cook no fucking breakfast.
Mike: I wasn’t talking about you cooking it. He just said you like breakfast food. We were going to swing by IHOP on the way. . .Okay uh, good talk. Um, I’ll be outside with the rest of the breakfast lovers of the world.
Captain Dickson: Rule number two. Burns?
Burns: Do not have sexual relations with students or teachers, sir.
Captain Dickson: You hear that? That’s you. Don’t do it, man.
Captain Dickson: Keep that dirty dick in your pants. Don’t fuck no students, don’t fuck no teachers. . .
Schmidt: Sir, I know we come off as a couple of lady-killers, but I promise you, we will be super professional on the job. . .
Captain Dickson: Clearly I wasn’t talking to you, big-titties. You cherub-looking motherfucker. I was talking to your partner here. Fake-ass Handsome McGee. When I’m talking to him, I’m talking to him. When I say “shut the fuck up,” I’m talking to you.