Philip: You’re upset because it’s Christmas. Christmas is a time when you look at your life through a magnifying glass, and whatever you don’t have feels overwhelming. Being alone is so much lonelier at Christmas. Everything sad is so much sadder at Christmas. You can’t give in to this, Felix!
Mirabelle: Are we going in?
Jeremy Kraft: Go in? Oh, no. I just thought we’d look at it.
Mirabelle: So. . .we would just sit here, then?
Jeremy Kraft: Yeah, or walk around. This place is called City Walk. It got eight out of ten in my date book. It’s not called “City-Go-and-See-a-Movie”. Tickets are, like, ten bucks too, so. . .
Navin R. Johnson: The new phone book’s here! The new phone book’s here!
Harry Hartounian: Boy, I wish I could get that excited about nothing.
Navin R. Johnson: Nothing? Are you kidding? Page 73 – Johnson, Navin R.! I’m somebody now! Millions of people look at this book everyday! This is the kind of spontaneous publicity – your name in print – that makes people. I’m in print! Things are going to start happening to me now.
[cut to sniper]
Sniper: Johnson, Navin R. . .sounds like a typical bastard. [cut back to gas station] Die, Navin R. Johnson. Bastard! Random son of a bitch, typical run-of-the-mill bastard.
Harris K. Telemacher: Well, I. . .I might like to have the duck.
Chef: You can’t have the duck.
Mr. Perdue, Maitre D’ at L’Idiot: You can’t have the duck.
Harris K. Telemacher: Why?
Mr. Perdue, Maitre D’ at L’Idiot: You think with a financial statement like this, you can have the duck?!
Stock Boy: Excuse me sir, what are you doing?
George: I’ll tell you what I’m doing. I want to buy eight hot dogs and eight hot dog buns to go with them. But no one sells eight hot dog buns. They only sell twelve hot dog buns. So I end up paying for four buns I don’t need. So I am removing the superfluous buns.
Stock Boy: I’m sorry sir, but you’re going to have to pay for all twelve buns; they’re not marked individually.
George: Yeah. And you want to know why? Because some big-shot over at the wiener company got together with some big-shot over at the bun company and decided to rip off the American public. Because they think the American public is a bunch of trusting nit-wits who will pay for everything they don’t need rather than make a stink.
Assistant Manager of Supermarket: Get me security.
George: Well they’re not ripping of this nitwit anymore because I’m not paying for one more thing I don’t need. George Banks is saying NO!
Stock Boy: Who’s George Banks?