Walter, NO! Nuh-uh, that's not what happened, officer. [to Walter] What's wrong with you, Walter? [to the police officer] Look, we like to report some missin' kids. That's it. The missin' kids. Yeah, that sounds better.
Muriel, I can't lose this contest. My gumbo is the only reason folks respect me. When the people of these projects thinks of gumbo, they think of me because Thurgood Stubbs means gumbo. Don't you see? I'm gumbo, damn it!
No, no, no. You don't go givin' cars people names. You gotta give it a name that says class. That says somethin' about... about you. [paints "Poorsche" on the traffic cone]
First it's stolen go-karts, what's next? Some brute breakin' in and tryin' to have his way with me? I can see it now. Sure, I try to resist at first, but nothing can stop his filthy love. Next thing I know, I'm cookin' his breakfast! And I'm too young to settle down!
[writing an angry letter to HUD] "Dearest HUD, how are you? I am fine. But you are not so fine. If you really want to help the little people-- and I don't mean the project elves that put clean socks and underwear in my drawer while I'm sleepin'--"
Muriel! Writing! [resumes writing] "It's time you see to it that the basic human needs like freedom, equality, and talkin' toilets are made available to everyone. Especially talkin' toilets. Signed, your humble servant, Thurgood O. Stubbs, Esquire."
Hmm, let me do a recap. I took your stupid statue and wiped my butt on it, smashed it into a thousand pieces, and-- let's see, did I forget anything? Oh, yeah, I called you a wiatch under my breath.
