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In Iowa, an adopted girl discovers her talent for butter carving and finds herself pitted against an ambitious local woman in their town's annual contest.
Brooke Swinkowski: Bob, I'm gonna shit on the hood of your car.
Laura Pickler: How dare you bring Oprah into this?
'The Boy from Battle Creek' narrator: But no-one could imagine the show stopper the boy from Battle Creek would pull out this year: A life size replica of The Last Supper, that the Des Moines Register called "Better than the original."
Brooke Swinkowski: Listen, would you prefer it if I didn't enter this whole butter contest thing? Laura Pickler: Absolutely. Brooke Swinkowski: Excellent. [signs up] Brooke Swinkowski: It's on cunt! Carol Ann: I haven't heard that word since my dad died.
Brooke Swinkowski: [riding away on her bicycle] Fuck you, Bob. Bob: No. Thank you. We have plenty of steak knives.
[first lines] Laura Pickler: I believe in America. I believe we are the best. I believe we're number one. And I won't apologize for that. My husband and I are survivors. We fought tooth and nail to get where we are today. How? The old fashion way, hard work and a can-do attitude. And here in the great State of Iowa, no less, where all great battles begin. My name is Laura Dean Pickler, and this is the cut-throat story of greed, blackmail, sex, and butter.
Laura Pickler: You're sleeping on the couch tonight. Bob: I sleep on the couch *every* night.
Bob: My wife controls the checkbook. Brooke Swinkowski: Your wife, Bob? I can't believe you're gonna let your wife come between us? I thought you had morals.
Brooke Swinkowski: I know you're like only 10 and shit, but listen up. You beat that skanky ass bitch, you beat her hard. I've done all I can do, it's up to you know. Destiny: [stunned] Okay. Brooke Swinkowski: You're a good girl. Ethan: I don't think I want you hanging out with strippers, okay?
Laura Pickler: And Camp Butter... it doesn't just organize itself!
Laura Pickler: I plan on proudly bearing his children. Brooke Swinkowski: So, you want a cookie 'cause you're going to get pregnant? I get pregnant, like, once a month!
Laura Pickler: [in photo op with Down syndrome children] I've always said that your people are the small flashlights that help the dark world find its lost car keys. Little Girl: What?
Brooke Swinkowski: [writhing around] You're the only man that cares about me. Bob: That's not true. I'm sure there's plenty of men who like you. Your father cares about you, right? Brooke Swinkowski: [into his ear] My father raped me. Bob: Oh my God! Brooke Swinkowski: [breathlessly] I just, I need someone to take care of me. Someone who understands me, someone who will love me. [starting stripping] Brooke Swinkowski: Not just someone to pay my rent - which by the way, comes to $560 a month, plus utilities.
Brooke Swinkowski: See that store over there? [Victoria's Secret] Brooke Swinkowski: With this $1200, I could buy work clothes like you have never seen. Destiny: Where do you work? Brooke Swinkowski: Barnes and Noble.
Kaitlen: God I hate people! I can't wait 'til everyone dies from global warning. Brooke Swinkowski: Right, do you know where your dad keeps his money?
Brooke Swinkowski: Butter saves!
Destiny: My new foster parents, and everyone at my new school, were so nice that I couldn't help but think, are these crackers for real? [grins back nervously]
Destiny: They were homeschoolers, which always spells trouble. Mrs. Moore: And then, God cast down the angels, and they fell to Earth, which is where dinosaur bones come from.
[last lines] Destiny: If there's even the slightest chance she'll win, I'm fixin' to team up with some bad-ass ninjas, to march down to Des Moines, and kick - her - butt.