Nothing But Trouble

Nothing But Trouble Quotes

A businessman finds he and his friends the prisoners of a sadistic judge and his equally odd family in the backwoods of a bizarre mansion.

Diane Lightson: Let's just be quiet and let him do his little thing and we'll be on our way.
J.P.: Oh, I will let you be on your way, and when you go...
[bellows]
J.P.: THE CAT'S EYES'LL SPIN! NOW, LISTEN!
Chris Thorne: Ok, we'll listen!
J.P.: [calm again] Hey, hey, ha! Ho ha! Heh heh heh heh! Hoola, Hoola, Hoola! The Boola Boola Boola! Look who's got the front seats to the Mexican hat dance now! Just like a bunch of spiders in a birthday cake!
Chris Thorne: They're Brazillionaires, they have breakfast at 2pm in the afternoon.
Fausto: You've got a BMW. Act like it!
Miss Purdah: [Chris is chained and Eldona is trying on outfits before him] Eldona, you know he's not supposed to see you this special day?
Chris Thorne: Special day? What is it - Halloween?
Bobo: [the three are playing cards] If I win, I get... another bowl of cereal!
L'il Debbull: If I win, I get... Diane!
Diane Lightson: [cutesy] No, Lil' Debbull
J.P.: [asking about Chris' job] Banker?
Chris Thorne: No, not banker. Financial publisher. "Thorne Weekly"?
J.P.: Ok, banker.
J.P.: Go suck a bug.
Chris Thorne: Fun is actually knowing who half your guests are.
Fausto: You people are sick, wicked, funky, misanthropic, co-dependent animals! And I won't have my sister, who was once the Queen of the Mardi Gras, sitting at a table with a pickle-shooting train!
Bobo: Hi! I'm Bobo, that's Lil' Debbull!
L'il Debbull: Hi, we're not allowed inside the house!
J.P.: No choice now but house policy.
J.P.: Fine, house policy! *What's* house policy?
Chris Thorne: Well, whatever man she touches is the one she keeps!
Chris Thorne: Aw, no!
[Eldona carries him off happily]
Chris Thorne: Oh, come on, all I did run a goddamn stoplight! I just want to get to Atlantic City!
J.P.: I'm of the school that believes that the last thirty seconds of a person's life ought to have a little zip in them!
Dennis: [abou tthe criminals] Would you watch things around here for a minute? I'm gonna go for a smoke.
Miss Purdah: Go for a smoke? But, Dennis, they've got guns, drugs! One of 'em tried to kill ya! I'm stayin' to watch!
Diane Lightson: [to Chris] I didn't mean what I said when I told you to save yourself. Get your ass back down here and SAVE ME!
J.P.: [at the dinner table, a meat grinder makes a whining noise like a dog] How do you like your dog?
Diane Lightson: They're serving dog?
J.P.: Oh, no, no, no ,*hot* dogs, *hot* dogs. Dutch country, prized Hereford winners.
Diane Lightson: [relieved] Oh! Hot dogs!
Chris Thorne: [after being stopped by Dennis, a police officer] Folks, meet Andy Griffith!
Chris Thorne: Alvin, I was just thinking you've got enough vintage steel around here to make a few thousand Toyotas. Ever think of selling the whole place to the Japanese?
J.P.: There you go. Does the Pope wear a hat? Was Sergeant York's mother an angel? And will a banker grope for money?
Chris Thorne: I'm not a banker, I'm a financial publisher.
J.P.: Well, all I know is in '17 after they shipped me off to fight, some New York financier rolled in here one day and hog-glowsered and tub-wankled my grandfather into mining out the whole town in exchange for shares in something called the United Coke Company. Do you know what those stock certificates are worth today?
[shouts]
J.P.: JUST ABOUT THE FINEST OUTHOUSE WALLPAPER YOU'VE EVER SEEN! We were forced to become what you drove through today; a burnt out coal field and the biggest icebox graveyard this side of the Ohio foundry belt! And that's why I *never* let a banker go!
Fausto: So your grandpa made a lousy deal, is that our problem?
Diane Lightson: Judge, that's a very tragic, tragic story.
J.P.: I believe it is.
Renalda: You should do a book.
Renalda: Ày, Fausto, you are going to make me swim through toxics! Ày, Fausto, Fausto, I cannot believe it!
Fausto: Baby, we've got to swim to the freeway!
Diane Lightson: [passing "No Cussing" sign] Oh, and no cussing.
Chris Thorne: Oh, shit.
Renalda: I didn't forget the butter. It was Antonio, Antonio, the butler, forgot the butter.
Diane Lightson: [after insulting the Reeve and falling in a chamber of squeaky toys, she punches him] How could you be so insensitive?
Chris Thorne: What do you mean? What are you talking about?
Renalda: Fausto, you better do something about this!
Fausto: Niña, you're pulling on my coat, now cool it!
Diane Lightson: I had us out of here! Then you had to go and open your big mouth!
[pulls toy out of her shirt]
Diane Lightson: *You* had us out of here? We would've been here another two hours listening to the history of the Valkenburger farm or wherever the hell we are!
Diane Lightson: I knew that I couldn't depend on you!
Chris Thorne: Listen, I don't need this! I was just trying to get us to Atlantic City... for YOU!
Diane Lightson: [sarcastic] Oh, is that right?
Chris Thorne: Yeah!
Fausto: You're no longer our financial advisor! You're fired!
Diane Lightson, Chris Thorne: [to Fausto] SHUT UP!
Chris Thorne: I should have known. A Brazillionaire never forgets.
Renalda: [in the elevator] Chris, come, I save it for you.
Fausto: That's what she says to all the guys.
Fausto: Wait, I'm entitled to one phone call.
Dennis: Surely, and you're more than welcome to make one, *if* we had a phone.
J.P.: You might be interested to know that you are *not* under the jurisdiction of just any old fishing license dispenser and stamp pad jockey! We've always been set to deal with the offenders *once* and for all at their first appearance! Quick as sump grease through a ten-year old goose!
[whistles]
Chris Thorne: Congratulations, I'm glad to know thing are running smoothly for you.
[lights a cigar]
J.P.: [bellows] PUT OUT THAT DOG ROCKET!
Fausto: Where are we going?
Chris Thorne: We're going to Atlantic City, Fausto. Get in the trunk.
J.P.: Where's that no-good, dog food eatin' grandson of mine... DENNIS!
Chris Thorne: What are you saying, it's death or Eldona?
[passing by three half-buried dolphin statues]
Chris Thorne: So that's where they buried Flipper.
Fausto, Renalda: Flipper is dead?
[passing two dirty bikers]
Chris Thorne: Evil Knievel and Mr. Clean.
Digital Underground member: [referring to Miss Purdah] Man, she is one ugly, cross-burnin', redneck, peckerwood, police bitch, man.
Chris Thorne: Come on, death for running a stop sign?
J.P.: *And* for being a banker! That's the double death.
Dennis: [the drug dealers are stopped for speeding] I'm afraid you'll have to blow.
Dealer #1: Blow *you* to get out of a ticket? Come on!
[chuckles]
Dennis: That's not funny, I meant you'll have to use a Breathalyzer.
Dealer #1's Girlfriend: I'll blow 'im!
Dennis: Maybe later. Next century. Let's go.
J.P.: Welcome to Supper! How 'bout a nice Hawaiian Punch?
Chris Thorne: Thank you, Judge. You know, there's nothing better at the end of a long day on the road than a nice warm glass of Hawaiian Punch.
J.P.: Get yer Eye-talian loafers outta my bedpan!
J.P.: [asking Chris if he takes Eldona to be his wife]
Chris Thorne: [stuttering] I di...
J.P.: Pardon?
Chris Thorne: [stuttering] bu...
J.P.: What?
Chris Thorne: [stuttering] I can'...
J.P.: Speak up!
Chris Thorne: [sweating] I do. I do.
J.P.: Y'know, you are worse than a week of yellow shitstorms.
[first lines]
Fausto: [as they leave a car and go into a building to a party] 20 minutes, hello, good-bye.
Renalda: Ok.
Fausto: Chris, put this tape on, Las Chankas.
Chris Thorne: You may kiss the bride.
Chris Thorne: Oh, not in front of all these people, your honor.
J.P.: [yelling] NOW!
[Eldona is about to throw Diane into an oil well after being chased by Bobo and L'il Debbull]
L'il Debbull: Eldona's got her, that's good.
Bobo: That's not good!
L'il Debbull: No, that's not good!
Mike the Doorman: Evening, Mr. Thorne.
Chris Thorne: [getting out of the car] 110 blocks in less than 15 minutes, not bad for a one-eyed Russian immigrant.
Dealer #2's Girlfriend: [laughing as they see Judge Valkenheiser] Oh my God! Would you look at his face? Is that nose rubber?
Dealer #1: Hey, I don't want you, I want Judge Wapner.
Dealer #2: I have to plead to the Fifth Dimension.
Fausto: It smells like São Paulo!
Dennis: [about Chris and company] I recommend fine, bond, and release.
J.P.: Ah, tut tut tut tut! What else you wanna do for them, bake 'em a pie?
Diane Lightson: How long have you been divorced?
Chris Thorne: Four years.
Diane Lightson: Do you still love her.
Chris Thorne: Nah, been over her for... weeks.
J.P.: You really put the pin in the party hog now, girl!
Diane Lightson: [about the judge] Does he treat all traffic violators this graciously?
Dennis: Only ones he takes a special interest in, like bankers.
[passing a group of hillbillies]
Chris Thorne: Morning. Sell pork bellies, buy gold.
Bobo: You're the one who's fat!
L'il Debbull: Not as fat as you!
J.P.: [Chris tries to hit him in the thigh] I left that leg in France... and now, I'M GONNA STICK YOU! I'm gonna dig so many new holes in you, you're gonna look like a salt shaker!
J.P.: If it was an ambulance you got a chance, if it's in a hearse, it's gotta be worse!
Chris Thorne: Thanks for the espresso maker... and the bag of shit.

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