'Skank' Marden:
I play hockey and I fornicate, 'cause those are the two most fun things to do in cold weather.
Donnie Shulzhoffer:
This is hockey, OK? It's not rocket surgery.
Sarah Heinz:
Mother walrus going "Thwap, thwap, thwap"?
Matt 'Skank' Marden:
What?
Sarah Heinz:
You wanna hear a "Thwap"?
[
Heinz hits Skank with a shovel]
[
Mr. Walsh is shot]
John Biebe:
You okay?
Mr. Walsh:
No, I'm not okay! Do I look okay? The fucker shot me! What the fuck-ass fuck of a bum-fuck shithole town is this? I make a business call. I give him my card. And the hick-ass fucker shoots my foot off! Cock-fucking shit!
Janice Pettiboe:
It's a Rockwellian Christmas up here. Skating. Barbecues. Snow. We're here with defenseman Matt Marden, and... cut!
Charles Danner:
What?
Janice Pettiboe:
I can't feel my fingers.
'Skank' Marden:
You need to rub 'em on a nice, warm Yuletide log.
Janice Pettiboe:
I beg your pardon?
'Skank' Marden:
Look, Christmas is a lonely day for a guy to be chokin' his own chicken. And as women reporters go, I find you supple.
Janice Pettiboe:
Oh, that was lovely. It's a shame we weren't rolling for that.
Charles Danner:
I'm sure he'd be happy to repeat it.
'Skank' Marden:
[
laughing] You need to relax!
Janice Pettiboe:
Charles!
'Skank' Marden:
Do you like massages?
[
Skank leans over, bursting into laughter again]
Donnie Shulzhoffer:
Hey, you know where a guy can get a rub and a tug around here?
Stevie Weeks:
I'm a premature ejaculator.
Reporter:
Did you see your daddy out there?
Joey Biebe:
I have a toy pony, he takes big shits.
Bailey Pruitt:
[
questioning a witness in court] You don't like our little town very much, do you Mr. Walsh?
Mr. Walsh:
I have nothing against your town, Mr. Pruitt.
Bailey Pruitt:
Did you say, "What the fuck-ass fuck of a bum-fuck shithole town is this?"
[
John is jealous after seeing his wife and Charles Danner laughing together in the stands, while John was busy trying to coach the team. Donna doesn't understand why he is upset]
Donna Biebe:
John?
John Biebe:
You've been smilin' a lot lately.
Donna Biebe:
[
smiling, still puzzled] Excuse me?
John Biebe:
Ever since he came back. Charlie. You been smilin' a little more.
Donna Biebe:
[
finally understanding] John. That was high school.
[
He walks a few steps, kicking the snow to reveal the frozen pond below. Then he kicks at the ice again and speaks metaphorically]
John Biebe:
This is not a pond!
Mayor Scott Pitcher:
And we're getting a Zamboni, Donna.
Donna Biebe:
A Zamboni? Wow, I'm getting wet just thinkin' about it.
Mayor Scott Pitcher:
Jesus Christ!
[
walks away]
Donna Biebe:
Every ex-player turned coach says that they prefer coaching over playing. Why would they all say that?
John Biebe:
Because they can't play.
Judge Walter Burns:
Hi. What's wrong?
Joanne Burns:
Uh, Walter, get out. This is private.
Judge Walter Burns:
I'm entitled to know what's going on under this roof. After all, I am the father of this child...
Joanne Burns:
Walter, if you don't leave, I *swear* I'll tell you.
Judge Walter Burns:
[
pause] Right.
[
leaves]
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