Judge Walter Burns
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Mr. Pruitt, I don't want to hear about Price World, and I don't want to hear another word about a hockey game. We talked about that.
Bailey
Dialogue
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[
Mr. Walsh is shot]
John: 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!
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Janice: It's a Rockwellian Christmas up here. Skating. Barbecues. Snow. We're here with defenseman Matt Marden, and... cut!
Charles: What?
Janice: I can't feel my fingers.
Matt: You need to rub them on a nice, warm Yuletide log.
Janice: I beg your pardon?
Matt: Look, Christmas is a lonely day for a guy to be choking his own chicken. And as women reporters go, I find you supple.
Janice: Oh, that was lovely. It's a shame we weren't rolling for that.
Charles: I'm sure he'd be happy to repeat it.
Matt: [
laughing] You need to relax!
Janice: Charles!
Matt: Do you like massages?
[
Skank leans over, bursting into laughter again]
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Bailey: [
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: Did you say, "What the fuck-ass fuck of a bum-fuck shithole town is this?"
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[
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's upset]
Donna: John?
John: You've been smiling a lot lately.
Donna: [
smiling, still puzzled] Excuse me?
John: Ever since he came back, Charlie. You been smiling a little more.
Donna: [
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: This is not a pond!
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Scott: And we're getting a Zamboni, Donna.
Donna: A Zamboni? Wow, I'm getting wet just thinking about it.
Scott: Jesus Christ!
[
walks away]
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Donna: Every ex-player turned coach says that they prefer coaching over playing. Why would they all say that?
John: Because they can't play.
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Walter: Hi, what's wrong.
Joanne: Uh, Walter, get out. This is private.
Walter: I'm entitled to know what's going on under this roof. After all, I am the father of this child...
Joanne: Walter, if you don't leave, I *swear* I'll tell you.
Walter: [
pause] Right.
[
leaves]
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