Quotes
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Marcia: Doug! I think I just felt your tongue in my mouth.
Doug: It's called a French kiss.
Marcia: But I thought you were from Nebraska!
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Charlie: Hey. I heard hat you said, Doug. And I'm not going to let you talk to Marcia like that.
Doug: Yeah?
Charlie: Yeah.
Doug: Well. What are you going to do about it, geek?
Charlie: I'm going to... lose... consciousness...
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Charlie: Marcia, I think I just felt your tongue in my mouth.
Marcia: It's called a French kiss, Charlie.
Charlie: Um. Marcia, I got to go. Uh... something suddenly came up.
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Sam: Wait a minute, I've got something for you.
Alice: [
rolls her eyes] Unless it fits on my fingers, I got to hit the hay.
Sam: It better fit, or I'm going to have to take it back.
Alice: [
gets excited, closes her eyes and sticks out her hand] Sam, I thought this day would never come!
Sam: [
gives Alice a bowling ball] When I saw it, I thought it was right up your alley.
Alice: I'm bowled over.
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Greg: Hey Mrs. Dittmeyer.
Mrs. Dittmeyer: Greg!
Greg: I was looking for Eric.
Mrs. Dittmeyer: Oh, he's in the garage. [
he begins walking] Oh wait, Greg, I think we got some of your mail again. Oh, but your hands are full, let me put it in your pocket. [
she puts the mail in his front pocket very slowly to try and seductively touch his leg] Oh my, you're so tall. You're almost as big as your daddy.
Greg: Yeah, and I'm still growing.
Mrs. Dittmeyer: [
admiring his body] Right before my eyes. Oooh, and you're so strong.
Peter: Hey Mrs. Dittmeyer.
Mrs. Dittmeyer: Peter!
Peter: I was wondering if you needed any chores done around the house.
Mrs. Dittmeyer: Two Bradys. Yummy. [
she gently touches both of their chins] I'll tell you what, when you boys are done, you could come inside and help me make a sandwich.
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Mrs. Dittmeyer: Hi sweetie.
Cindy: Hi Mrs. Dittmeyer.
Mrs. Dittmeyer: How's your daddy?
Cindy: He's fine.
Mrs. Dittmeyer: (to Mr. Dittmeyer) Mrs. Brady is lucky to have a strong, virile man in her house. (back to Cindy) You tell your daddy I'd be happy to help him wrap his packages this Christmas.
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Greg: Now, throw me a pass.
Peter: 24, 32, set, hike! [
Peter throws the football way over Greg's head]
Marcia: Dinner's ready... [
The football hits her in the face] Oh, my nose!