Howard Help Me Outta the Tub Im Stuck Again

Edit

Lloyd Christmas: We got no food, we got no jobs... our PETS' HEADS ARE FALLING OFF!

Harry Dunne: [a large bus full of gorgeous women in bikinis pull up abreast them and 3 stride out]

Bikini Girl: Hi, guys. We're going on a national bikini tour, and we're looking for two oil boys who can grease united states off before each competition.

Harry Dunne: You lot are in luck! In that location's a boondocks near three miles that manner. I'thousand sure you'll observe a couple guys there.

Bikini Girl: [baffled] Okay, cheers.

[the doors close and the bus drives off. Later a 2nd, Lloyd turns to Harry]

Lloyd Christmas: Practise you lot realize what y'all've washed?

[they run after the coach]

Lloyd Christmas: HEY! HEY!

Harry Dunne: Lloyd! Lloyd!

[the bus stops and opens the doors]

Lloyd Christmas: [panting] Yous'll have to excuse my friend. He's a little slow. The town is back *that* way.

Harry Dunne: [after Lloyd trades the van in for a moped] You lot know, Lloyd, just when I think you couldn't mayhap be any dumber, yous go and practise something like this... and totally redeem yourself!

Harry Dunne: I tin't believe we collection around all day, and there's not a unmarried job in this town. At that place is nil, zilch, naught!

Lloyd Christmas: Yeah! Unless you wanna work forty hours a week.

Harry Dunne: Co-ordinate to the map, nosotros've only gone four inches.

Harry Dunne: She gave me a bunch of crap about me non listening to her, or something. I don't know, I wasn't actually paying attending.

Lloyd Christmas: [Reaching over Joe Mantelino] You're it.

Harry Dunne: You're it.

Lloyd Christmas: You're it, quitsies!

Harry Dunne: Anti-quitsies, you're it, quitsies, no anti-quitsies, no startsies!

Lloyd Christmas: Y'all can't practise that!

Harry Dunne: Can too!

Lloyd Christmas: Cannot, postage stamp it!

Harry Dunne: Can also, double stamp it, no erasies!

Lloyd Christmas: Cannot, triple stamp, no erasies, Touch blue make information technology true.

Harry Dunne: No, you tin can't do that... y'all can't triple stamp a double postage stamp, y'all can't triple stamp a double stamp! Lloyd!

Lloyd Christmas: [hands over ears] LA LA LA LA LA LA!

Harry Dunne: LLOYD! LLOYD! LLOYD!

Joe Mentalino: GUYS! Plenty!

Lloyd Christmas: [addressing Mary] I'm crazy about yous. I've never felt this way most anybody.

Lloyd Christmas: [laughs nervously] Heed to me! I feel like a schoolboy again. A schoolboy who desperately wants to make sweet, sweet beloved to you.

Mary Swanson: [Mary comes into the room, making it clear to viewers that Lloyd's previous words were only a rehearsal] I thought I heard you talking to someone.

Lloyd Christmas: [now extremely nervous] Mary... I... I badly want to make love to a schoolboy.

Harry Dunne: Then y'all got fired again, eh?

Lloyd Christmas: Oh yep. They ever freak out when y'all leave the scene of an blow, you know?

Harry Dunne: Aye, well, I lost my job as well.

Lloyd Christmas: Man, you are ane pathetic loser. No offense.

Harry Dunne: No, none taken. You lot know what actually chaps my ass though? I spent my life savings turning my van into a canis familiaris. The alarm alone cost me two hundred.

Lloyd Christmas: Hey, chicks love it. It'due south a shaggin' wagon.

Harry Dunne: What's her terminal name? I'll look it up.

Lloyd Christmas: You know, I don't actually call back. Starts with an S! Let's meet. Swim? Swammi? Slippy? Slappy? Swenson? Swanson?

Harry Dunne: Maybe it'south on the briefcase.

Lloyd Christmas: Oh, yes! Information technology's correct here.

[He reads the manufacturer's proper name, which is Samsonite]

Lloyd Christmas: Samsonite! I was way off! I knew information technology started with an Due south, though.

Harry Dunne: I expected the Rocky Mountains to be a lilliputian rockier than this.

Lloyd Christmas: I was thinking the same affair. That John Denver's full of shit, man.

Harry Dunne: I don't get information technology, Lloyd. She told me 10 o' clock, sharp! Are y'all certain you went to the right bar?

Lloyd Christmas: Yep. I'chiliad pretty sure. Foyer bar right past the lobby.

Harry Dunne: [sighs]

Lloyd Christmas: Maybe she but had a change of heart.

Harry Dunne: Oh, that pisses me off! That pisses me right off! I hate when women exercise that. She wanted to see you again! And at present no? Now... Look a minute! Look! She must take meant ten o' clock at night!

Lloyd Christmas: Do y'all remember...?

Harry Dunne: Why would she have y'all meet her in a bar at x in the morning time?

Lloyd Christmas: I just figured she was a raging alcoholic.

[coming out of the 7-xi]

Lloyd Christmas: Hey, guys. Whoa, Big Gulps, huh? All correct! Well, see you later.

Harry Dunne: [shivering] I can't feel my f-fingers anymore, Lloyd. They're-they're numb!

Lloyd Christmas: Perhaps you should wear these extra gloves.

Lloyd Christmas: [takes off gloves over another pair of gloves] My hands are starting to go sweaty.

Harry Dunne: Extra gloves? You've had this pair of actress gloves this whole time?

Lloyd Christmas: [obliviously] Aye, we're in the Rockies!

Harry Dunne: I'm gonna impale you.

State Trooper: [Harry is driving fast and a cop is behind him and Lloyd] Pull over!

Harry Dunne: What?

State Trooper: Pull over!

Harry Dunne: [realizes he's holding beer bottles that Lloyd urinated in; shows his sweater] No, it's a cardigan, but thanks for noticin'!

Lloyd Christmas: Yeah, killer boots, human being!

State Trooper: Pull your vehicle to the side of the road! License and registration, please. You fellas were going a niggling fast back there, wouldn't you lot say? You fellas been doing a chip of boozin', have ya? Suckin dorsum on gramps'southward old cough medicine?

Harry Dunne: No, sir.

Lloyd Christmas: No.

State Trooper: [points to the beer bottles] Yeah, well what'south that?

Harry Dunne: That'south zip, sir.

Lloyd Christmas: Yeah, nothing.

State Trooper: Yep, well are you lot aware that it'southward against the law to have an open alcohol container here in the state of Pennsylvania? Come on, give me that booze, you little pumpkin pie, hair-cutted freak, come on!

[Harry complies; the cop prepares to drink it, not knowing that Lloyd peed in it]

Harry Dunne: Sir, no! Wait, await, wait!

Lloyd Christmas: No, sir, don't!

Country Trooper: Yous keep your oral cavity shut if you know it'southward good for ya, buddy!

[takes a swig, just to realize he just drank urine]

Lloyd Christmas: Tic-Tac, sir?

State Trooper: Get the hell out of here!

[on the verge of gagging]

Lloyd Christmas: Husband? Wait a minute. What was all that "one in a 1000000" talk?

Lloyd Christmas: I desire to ask y'all a question, straight out, flat out, and I want you lot to give me the honest respond. What practise you lot think the chances are of a guy like y'all and a girl like me ending upwardly together?

Mary Swanson: Well Lloyd, that's difficult to say. We really don't...

Lloyd Christmas: Hit me with it! Just give it to me straight! I came a long way merely to see you lot Mary, only... The to the lowest degree you can do is level with me. What are my chances?

Mary Swanson: Not expert.

[the background soundtrack music suddenly stops]

Lloyd Christmas: [he gulps, his mouth twitching] You lot mean, non proficient like 1 out of a hundred?

Mary Swanson: I'd say more like one out of a meg.

Lloyd Christmas: [long interruption while he processes what he's heard] And then you're telling me there's a chance. Yeah!

Harry Dunne: That was genius, Lloyd, sheer genius. I mean where did you come up with a scam similar that?

Lloyd Christmas: Saw information technology in a movie once.

Harry Dunne: That'southward incredible! And then what happened, then the guy tricks some sucker into picking up his tab and gets away with it scott complimentary?

Lloyd Christmas: No, in the movie, they take hold of upwards to him one-half mile down the road and slit his throat!

Harry Dunne: [Stares at Lloyd in disbelief. The speed of the engine increases]

Lloyd Christmas: Ha ha ha! It was a expert one.

Lloyd Christmas: Alibi me, niggling old lady. Do yous have change for a dollar?

Elderly Lady: Change? No I'yard sorry, I don't.

Lloyd Christmas: Well, can y'all do me a favor and picket my stuff here while I become break a dollar?

Elderly Lady: Of course.

Lloyd Christmas: Thanks. Hey, I gauge they're correct. Senior citizens, although slow and dangerous backside the bike, can still serve a purpose. I'll be right back. Don't you go dying on me.

Lloyd Christmas: What the hell are we doing hither, Harry? We gotta get out of this boondocks!

Harry Dunne: Yeah, and get where? Where are we gonna go?

Lloyd Christmas: I'll tell you where. Someplace warm. A place where the beer flows like vino. Where beautiful women instinctively flock like the salmon of Capistrano. I'm talking about a piffling identify called Aspen.

Harry Dunne: I don't know Lloyd, the French are assholes.

Lloyd Christmas: If I know Mary as well every bit I think I do, she'll invite us right in for tea and strumpets.

Mary Swanson: Okay, how exercise you guys know each other?

Lloyd Christmas: We used to be best friends.

Harry Dunne: Yeah, till he turned into a back-stabber.

Lloyd Christmas: Me, a back-stabber? Yous got a lot of nerve. Yous knew I was crazy virtually her!

Harry Dunne: Aye, and you knew I was crazy most Fraida Felcher, and that didn't terminate you lot, did it?

Lloyd Christmas: [gasps] What do you hateful?

Harry Dunne: "What exercise you lot mean?" Don't deny it, Lloyd. Fraida told me the whole sleazy story, Mr. French Tickler! I guess we both learned a little something most each other today.

Lloyd Christmas: Y'all said it, pal. Maybe we're not every bit good of friends as nosotros idea. I mean, if ane beautiful girl can rip us autonomously like this, then maybe our friendship isn't worth a damn. Perhaps we should call it quits right now.

Harry Dunne: You just tell me where to sign, bud.

Lloyd Christmas: Right on my ass after y'all kiss it!

Harry Dunne: Osculation it! You buss mine! Both cheeks, both lips! Correct hither! Mwah, mwah, mwah, mwah!

Mary Swanson: So you'll pick me up tonight at vii forty-v?

Harry Dunne: Yo... well, y'know, I got a few things to take care of commencement, but what... why don't we make it quarter to eight?

Mary Swanson: [laughs] Stop it.

Harry Dunne: Okay, 7 forty-five.

Lloyd Christmas: I'g only homo, Harry! Come up on! Stop being a babe. Then we backtracked a tad.

Harry Dunne: A tad? A tad, Lloyd? You drove most a sixth of the fashion across the state in the incorrect management! At present we don't have enough coin to go to Aspen, we don't take enough money to get home, we don't have enough coin to eat, nosotros don't accept enough money to sleep!

Lloyd Christmas: Well, it's not gonna do us whatever good sitting here whining about information technology. We're in a hole. Nosotros're merely going to accept to dig ourselves out.

Lloyd Christmas: [Harry is choking him barehanded on a picnic table in Aspen] Harry, your hands are freezing!

Lloyd Christmas: Listen, Mr. Samsonite, nigh the briefcase, my friend Harry and I accept every intention of fully reimbursing you.

Nicholas Andre: Open information technology upwardly. Open up information technology up!

Lloyd Christmas: [Motioning to Mary] Go ahead, open it up. Do what he says. Hurry.

Nicholas Andre: What is this? What is this? Where'southward all the coin?

Lloyd Christmas: That's equally expert as money, sir. Those are I.O.U.'s. Go ahead and add information technology up, every cent'south accounted for. Look, come across this? That's a machine. 275 yard. Might wanna hang onto that 1.

Lloyd Christmas: I said, "Do you love me?" and she said, "No, but that's a really nice ski mask."

[Harry and Lloyd are spending the evening in a romantic-themed motel]

Harry Dunne: I don't know, Lloyd. These places always seem to bring back a lot of bad memories.

Lloyd Christmas: What'south the matter, Har? Some little filly break your heart?

Harry Dunne: No, it was a girl.

Harry Dunne: Yesterday was one of the greatest days of my life. Mary and I went skiing, we fabricated a snowman, she touched my leg...

Lloyd Christmas: Okay, kill him!

Lloyd Christmas: They got the Monkees. They were a major influence on the Beatles.

[while looking back at Mary]

Lloyd Christmas: In that location's actually nothing to worry about Mary. Statistically, they say y'all're more probable to get killed on the way to the airport. You know, like on a head on crash or flying off a cliff or getting trapped nether a gas truck! That's the worst! I have this cousin, well y'know, I had this cousin...

[Lloyd drives right through a cerise low-cal, causing a fatal accident visible in the window]

Mary Swanson: Uh, Lloyd, could yous keep your optics on the road please?

Lloyd Christmas: Oh, yeah! Skilful thinking. Yous can't be also careful. There are a lot of bad drivers out there.

Lloyd Christmas: [afterwards Harry saves his life] Harry, you're live. And a horrible shot!

Lloyd Christmas: [while telling Harry what to tell Mary almost himself] Tell her I'm rich, and I'm adept looking, and I take, uh, a rapist's wit.

Harry Dunne: [while Lloyd is urinating filling upward several empty beer bottles] What are yous, a camel?

[Lloyd starts making camel noises]

Joe Mentalino: Guys! Guys! Guys! Fellas... y'all think nosotros could heed to the radio or something?

Lloyd Christmas: Radio? Who needs a radio? Ready, Harry?

[Lloyd and Harry start singing "Mockingbird"]

Lloyd Christmas: [Lloyd and Harry terminate to pick upward Joe Mentalino, who is in that location to kill them] We don't unremarkably option upward hitchhikers. Simply I'thousand-a gonna become with my instincts on this i. Saddle up, partner!

Lloyd Christmas: [after a confrontation with Bounding main Bass] You actually wimped out, man.

Harry Dunne: What are you talking nearly, wimped out? Wha... Did you encounter? The guy hawked on my burger!

Lloyd Christmas: [Opening the door on Nicholas Andre, who he thinks is a hotel employee] We have plenty of towels - thanks!

Lloyd Christmas: [later getting off the moped with Harry frozen to his dorsum] Got a little nippy going through the pass, huh, Har?

Sea Bass: [Harry accidentally throws a salt shaker at him] What the hell? Who's the expressionless man that hit me with the salt shaker?

[Lloyd points to Harry]

Harry Dunne: Well, it was a terrible mistake, sir. Oh, please believe me, I would never practise anything to offend a man of your size.

Sea Bass Friend: Kick his donkey, Ocean Bass!

Sea Bass: [looks at Harry's burger] You gonna eat that?

Harry Dunne: What, that? No, yes, no. Well, no, I-I crossed my mind, yeah?

Body of water Bass: [hawks a disgusting loogie in Harry's burger] Still want it?

Harry Dunne: Nah, you go ahead.

[checking Harry & Lloyd's apartment]

Joe Mentalino: Briefcase ain't here, they must've taken it with them.

J.P. Shay: Well, he'south gotta come up abode sometime.

Joe Mentalino: Possibly we should trash the identify, transport them a picayune message.

J.P. Shay: [looks around] I don't recall he'due south gonna go that message Joe, I mean, the guy's got worms in his living room.

Mary Swanson: [after hearing on Tv well-nigh the kid who bought a dead bird] Who are these ill people?

Lloyd Christmas: The first time I set eyes on Mary Swanson, I simply got that one-time fashioned romantic feeling where I'd exercise anything to os her.

Harry Dunne: That'southward a special feeling, Lloyd.

Lloyd Christmas: All we need to do is show a little class, a little composure, and we're in like a dingy shirt.

Harry Dunne: No trouble, Lloyd. Nosotros can be classy and sophistic... Oh, cheque out the funbags on that hosehound.

Lloyd Christmas: I'd like to eat her liver with some fava beans and a nice bottle of Chianti.

Harry Dunne: I can't believe it.

Lloyd Christmas: Life is a fragile thing, Har. 1 minute you're chewin' on a burger, the adjacent minute you're dead meat.

Harry Dunne: But he blamed me. You lot heard him. Those were his last words.

Lloyd Christmas: Not if you count the gurgling sound.

Joe Mentalino: Gas man. How the hell did they know that I got gas?

Joe Mentalino: Shut upwards! At present we don't even know who the hell they are! You don't kill people yous don't know. That'south a rule.

Beth: I'm gonna requite you my number. Let's encounter if I can find it...

Harry Dunne: Neat!

[notices his left leg is on fire]

Harry Dunne: Ha!

Beth: Okay. I know I left it in here somewhere.

Harry Dunne: [stomping his left leg] Look! Why don't you just tell it to me! I have a really skilful retentivity!

Beth: Well, the number is 555-...

[Harry repeats it almost silently]

Beth: ...-905 - . Oh wait! That'southward my habitation number. That is and then weird how your listen just goes plain...

Harry Dunne: [gets impatient, even so trying to stomp the fire out] FOR GOD'S SAKE! Only GIVE ME THE DAMN NUMBER!

Beth: [looks at Harry appalled] Okay. Expect guy! Y'all're gonna get pushy, FORGET ABOUT It!

[Beth drives off, and Harry stomps away to the bath to put the fire out]

[offset lines]

Lloyd Christmas: Excuse me. Could you lot tell me how to get to the medical school? I'g supposed to be giving a lecture in 20 minutes, and my driver's a chip lost.

Lloyd Christmas: [to Harry] How about you go over and innovate yourself, build me upwardly, that way I don't have to brag about myself later.

Harry Dunne: [Harry simply emptied himself into Mary'southward broken toilet afterwards Lloyd gave him laxatives] Flush, y'all bounder.

Mary Swanson: This is incredible. You lot mean to say you drove 2000 miles, just for me?

Lloyd Christmas: I-I didn't really have a-a lot to do... and I know how frustrating it tin be to lose a handbag.

Lloyd Christmas: Mary Christmas. Mrs. Mary Christmas. Kinda tricky, huh, Harr?

Harry Dunne: Aye aye, that sounds nice. But, Lloyd, don't you think you might exist jumping the gun a little bit? I mean, yous know, who knows? You know, mayhap, once yous go to know her you'll find out that she'due south not your blazon.

Lloyd Christmas: [stern vocalization] Hey! Don't you always say that again! She is the honey of my life! The blood in my veins! We vest together till the mountains autumn into the ocean, till the heavens collide! Or until I get sick of her and need to move on. You hear me?

Harry Dunne: Okay, okay, okay, okay. Simply calm down. Just calm downward.

Joe Mentalino: And then why are you lot guys going to Aspen? Vacation?

Lloyd Christmas: [Lloyd and Harry but sabotaged his burger with atomic peppers and are snickering] Why don't you swallow up, and we'll tell ya.

Joe Mentalino: It just doesn't seem like yous packed match. All I saw was one bag and a briefcase.

Harry Dunne: Well, no, no. The briefcase isn't fifty-fifty ours. Some lady left it at that airport. We're simply bring it back to her. How's your burger?

Joe Mentalino: You mean, you don't fifty-fifty know her? I hateful talk virtually existence in the wrong place at the wrong fourth dimension.

[Harry and Lloyd hear a knock on their door and look through the peephole]

Harry Dunne: [whispering] There's two of 'em. 1 of 'em'due south got a gun.

Lloyd Christmas: [suspiciously] Did you pay the gas bill?

[Harry realizes he didn't, Lloyd grabs Harry's face]

Lloyd Christmas: Practise yous realize what you've washed?

[Deleted scene]

Lloyd Christmas: Let me ask you something. Do you desire to end up like Petey? Expressionless? In some flea-ridden apartment? Face up downwards in your own debris? A soggy sunflower seed pressed against your beak? Come on, Harry! Don't you lot see what Petey was trying to say to y'all? You got to accept life past the balls! Chew it up and spit it out! Dance to the tune of a different drummer! Spread your wings and fly and run and spring! God, help me!

Harry Dunne: I don't know if I got that from his expiry, Lloyd. I think his head just vicious off.

Lloyd Christmas: Whatever!

Country Trooper: You fellas been doing a chip of boozing, accept yous? Suckin back on grandpa'south old cough medicine?

Lloyd Christmas: This is the life... cold beer, a hot tub and cardboard walls. There's only one thing that could make this moment any better.

Harry Dunne: What's that?

Lloyd Christmas: If you lot had a prissy gear up of knockers.

Harry Dunne: That's two things, Lloyd.

Lloyd Christmas: Yeah, well, it's a good matter you're not stacked, Harry, or I'd be banging you right now. I'd show y'all what a existent man can do. Split you lot like an old piece of firewood. Yous'd probably similar it besides, you big homo.

Harry Dunne: Shut upward.

Lloyd Christmas: Don't tell me to shut up, woman.

[to the dogs in his van]

Harry Dunne: OK, gang, you know the rules, no humping, no licking, no sniffing hineys.

Anxious Homo at Telephone: [pacing outside of phone booth occupied by Mental] I had plans. I had things I wanted to do. This is where it all ends in a phone booth.

[bangs on the glass]

Anxious Man at Telephone: Sir, did y'all ever hear of the concept of "other people"? Um, me, beingness that for the phone, sir...

[Mental ignores him]

Anxious Man at Phone: Y'all turned your back on me, Ooh Ooh! He got me mad, I virtually like it.

[starts to bang on glass once again]

Anxious Man at Phone: [Bangs on drinking glass with each sentence] The damage I can practice to you. Considering you were spiteful. I didn't wanna... That'due south non your problem. You didn't know... Get off the telephone.

[Acts like he can't hear him and motions for him to step closer]

Anxious Man at Phone: Go off - the - pho...

Joe Mentalino: [Punches through the glass, knocking the man unconscious] I'k sorry, Mr. Andre, you were proverb?

Lloyd Christmas: [every bit he leaves a convenience store, Lloyd encounters two blackness guys] Hey, guys. Oh, Big Gulps, huh? All right... Well, run into you later!

Nicholas Andre: [Over the phone] Don't forget that your bread plate is on the left! Look, I tin can't have these guys running effectually Aspen!

Joe Mentalino: Don't worry. They ain't gonna be running around nowhere later I dump a footling rat poison in their Shirley Temple.

[Joe Mentalino is having an ulcer attack]

Lloyd Christmas: He's resisting me!

Harry Dunne: Hither.

[puts some pills in Mentalino'south mouth]

Harry Dunne: Hither you lot go. Here you go. Hither you become.

Lloyd Christmas: Pills! Pills are good! Pills are proficient!

Harry Dunne: Beverage 'em downward. There you become. There you lot go, big guy. Yous want some ketchup and mustard? That helped us.

[Mentalino sees the rat poison bottle]

Joe Mentalino: Son of a bitch!

[stomach gurgles and he dies]

Lloyd Christmas: Cheque, delight.

Lloyd Christmas: Alibi me, gunman. Who are yous?

Nicholas Andre: Don't play dumb with me, asshole! I'chiliad the rightful owner of the briefcase you've been carrying effectually!

Nicholas Andre: [sees Harry and Lloyd budgeted in their ridiculous suits] Uhh, excuse me gentlemen... this is a $500-a-plate dinner. Goodnight.

Harry Dunne: $500. Okay, no trouble. Put us down for four.

Lloyd Christmas: In case we want seconds!

Beth: So I told myself. Beth you just got to run girl and oh you know what that clutz did next?

Lloyd Christmas: No and I don't - Care!

Mrs. Neugeboren: Where have you been, Dunne? My dogs were supposed to be here xl minutes ago! Now, I hardly have any fourth dimension to primp them.

Harry Dunne: Don't worry almost a matter, Mrs. Noogy-Burger

Mrs. Neugeboren: Neugeboren!

Harry Dunne: Neu-Neu-Neuge...

Mrs. Neugeboren: -boren.

Harry Dunne: Boren. These pooches are not gonna demand whatever primping. You know why? Because I bathed them, and I clipped them myself. And I stand by my performance.

Harry Dunne: [Dogs are covered in ketchup and mustard from the crude auto ride] On 2d thought, y'all may just desire to run a comb through them.

Beth: [at the gas station] Uh sir, y'all're... you're spraying everywhere...

Lloyd Christmas: You spilled the salt, that'south what's the matter! Spilling the table salt is very bad luck! Nosotros're driving across the country, the last affair we demand is bad luck. Quick, toss some salt over your correct shoulder.

Harry Dunne: [Tosses the unabridged common salt shaker over his shoulder]

Ocean Bass: What the hell? Who's the dead man that hit me with the common salt shaker?

Harry Dunne: [on seeing the dogs covered in food] Yous know, on second thought, you might just want to run a rummage through 'em.

Harry Dunne: [his tongue is frozen stuck to the ski-lift] Say... y'all kids wouldn't happen to have a cup of warm water would ya?

Contribute to This Folio

churchfitionly.blogspot.com

Source: https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0109686/quotes/qt0383410

Share this post