Fletcher Quotes in Stolen (2012)

Fletcher: How ya doin', Will? Hope you got raped everyday.

Fletcher: You really think your kid wants to see you?

Will Montgomery: I'm about to find out.

Tim Harlend: As grandma Harlend used to said, love makes time pass, and time is certain to make love pass.

[Braddock and Murphy have watched Blue Thunder perform a selective firepower demonstration]

Icelan: Well, look at that, all the red dummies are blown to hell.

Frank Murphy: And a few white ones!

Fletcher: One civilian dead for every ten terrorists. That's an acceptable ratio.

Frank Murphy: [Leaning closer to Braddock] Unless you're one of the civilians!

[last lines]

Fletcher: It's for the greater good, Alan. Your life will mean something. I promise.

Fletcher: It's a strange profession you have, isn't it, Alan? You take people's lives, make lies out of them.

Alan Hakman: It's been a long time, Fletcher.

Fletcher: Eight years.

Alan Hakman: Well, I don't have time to catch up right now.

Fletcher: How can you handle it, Alan? People sleeping and shitting... people stealing from each other... manipulating each other.. the obscenity.

Alan Hakman: I can't talk, I'm working.

Fletcher: I heard you're not cutting any more.

Alan: I've had enough of other people's lives.

Simon: Let's do this.

Fletcher: No, no. Not now there's somebody up there. This has to be clean. No mess.

Simon: Clean, dirty. It's all the same to me.

Alan: Some of us still live by the code, Fletcher. We didn't walk away. We have what it takes.

Fletcher: And what does it take, Alan? Delusion? Obsession? Guilt? No, I don't have any of those... not as much as you do.

Fletcher: Work out what can be done if one of them is hijacked.

ffolkes: Don't the armed forces have some ideas in that department?

Fletcher: Undoubtedly. But an oil production platform isn't a building or an aeroplane. It's miles out to sea and you can't approach it without being seen or heard unless you come from below.

ffolkes: Only a man of superior intellect is likely to think of a satisfactory way of hijacking a platform or a rig.

Fletcher: Exactly.

ffolkes: Therefore, I must put myself in his position and devide a means of doing so. And having done that, I simply work out how to overpower myself!

Fletcher: Well if he's going where I think he's going we're about to get one hot potato off our table

[last lines]

Wesley: Is Any Of It Clean?

[last lines]

Fletcher: [pauses] Hmmm?

[begins walking away into the horizon, but stops and gives Wesley a knowing look]

Fletcher: Well I'm with the power... and the power is strong with the weak and weak with the strong

Max Reede: My teacher tells me beauty is on the inside.

Fletcher: That's just something ugly people say.

Fletcher: [while hearing Mrs. Cole having sex on an audio cassette]

Fletcher: Oh, come on! Your honor, how can it be proved that the male voice on that tape is not Mr. Cole himself?

Samantha: [voice on tape] You are such a better lover than my husband!

Fletcher: Your honor, I object!

Judge Stevens: And why is that, Mr. Reede?

Fletcher: It's devastating to my case!

Judge Stevens: Overruled.

Fletcher: Good call!

[after sex]

Miranda: Ummm that was incredible. Was it good for you?

Fletcher: I've had better.

Greta: He knocked over another ATM. This time at knife point. He needs your legal advice.

Fletcher: [picking up phone and shouting] Stop breaking the law, asshole!

Cop: You know why I pulled you over?

Fletcher: Depends on how long you were following me!

Cop: Why don't we just take it from the top?

Fletcher: Here goes: I sped. I followed too closely. I ran a stop sign. I almost hit a Chevy. I sped some more. I failed to yield at a crosswalk. I changed lanes at the intersection. I changed lanes without signaling while running a red light and *speeding*!

Cop: Is that all?

Fletcher: No... I have unpaid parking tickets.

[groans]

Fletcher: ... be gentle.

Office Worker: Hey, Fletcher, how's it hanging?

Fletcher: [groans] Short, shriveled, and always to the left.

Fletcher: Mrs. Cole, is this a copy of your driver's liscense?

[shows paper]

Samantha: That's right.

Fletcher: It says here you are a blonde, are you? If you don't remember perhaps Mr. Faulk will.

Samantha: Brunette.

Fletcher: Maybe if we play the tape again, maybe it's on there...

Samantha: I'm a brunette!

Fletcher: Thank you. Now let's see... weight 105? Yeah, in your bra.

Dana: Your honor, I object.

Fletcher: You would!

Dana: Bastard!

Fletcher: Hag!

Judge Stevens: QUIET! Overruled! Weight?

Samantha: 118.

[Fletcher gives her a look]

Samantha: Alright, fine, fine, I'm 127.

Fletcher: Uh, huh, and it says here you were born in 1964, but that's not true either is it? Is it!

Samantha: No.

Fletcher: Please tell the court what's on your birth certificate under Date of Birth.

Dana: Your honor, I object. What does this have to do with anything?

Judge Stevens: Overruled. Mrs. Cole, answer the question.

Samantha: 1965.

Fletcher: Now let get this straight. That means you lied about your age to make yourself older. But why would any woman want to DO THAT?

Samantha: I changed it so I could get married.

Fletcher: AND THE TRUTH SHALL SET YOU FREE! My client lied about her age! She was only 17 when she got married, which makes her a minor. And in the great state of California, no minor can enter into any legal contract without parental consent.

[to Dana]

Fletcher: Including...?

Dana: [sighs] Prenuptual agreements.

Fletcher: Prenuptual agreements! This contract is void! The fact that my client has been riden more than Seattle Slew is irrelevant. Standard Community Property applies and she is entitled to half of the marital assets, or $11.395 million. Jordan fades back, swoosh, and THAT'S THE GAME! Nothing further, your honor!

[about Mr. Allen]

Miranda: Well, what do you think of him?

Fletcher: He's a pedantic, pontificating, pretentious bastard, a belligerent old fart, a worthless steaming pile of cow dung, figuratively speaking.

[a moment passes and Mr. Allen starts laughing. The other board members follow his lead and start laughing also]

Mr. Allen: That's the funniest damn thing I've ever heard. You're a real card, Reede. I love a good roast! Do Simmons!

Fletcher: Simmons is old! He should've been out of the game years ago but he can't stay home because he hates his wife! You've met her at the Christmas parties. She's the one that gets plastered and calls him a retard! And you, Tom, you're the biggest brownnose I've ever seen! You've got your head so far up Mr. Allen's ass, I can't tell where you end and he begins!

Mr. Allen: [roaring with laughter] Priceless!

[Fletcher continues with every member]

Fletcher: You have bad breath caused by gingivitis. You couldn't get a porn star off. Your hairpiece looks like something that was killed crossing the highway. I don't know whether to comb it or scrape it off with a shovel and bury it alive. Loser! Idiot! Wimp! Degenerate!

[to Miranda]

Fletcher: *Slut*!

Mr. Allen: I like your style, Reede! That's just what this stuffy company needs - a little irreverence!

Fletcher: Good! I'll see you later, dick-head!

Mr. Allen: [Adressing one of his board members] Kep your eye on that boy, dick-head!

Fletcher: Your honor, would the court be willing to grant me a short bathroom break?

Judge: Can't it wait?

Fletcher: Yes it can. But I've heard that if you hold it you could damage the prostate gland, making it very difficult to get an erection, or even become aroused!

Judge: Is that true?

Fletcher: It has to be!

Judge: In that case I'd better take a quick break myself.

Guy in the Washroom: What the hell are you doing?

Fletcher: I'm kicking my ass! Do you mind?

Fletcher: [Picks up a Blue Pen]

[to himself]

Fletcher: Okay, the pen is red... the pen is red...

[aloud]

Fletcher: The color of this pen is ruh-ruh-ruh-ruh

[laughs]

Fletcher: . This pen is reeeeeeeeeeehhh-

[pauses then announces dramatically]

Fletcher: The color of the pen that I HOLD in my hand is rrrrr-rrroyal blue!

[falls to the floor exhausted]

Fletcher: AHH!

Fletcher: [Grabs a piece of paper] Okay, if I can't say it, I'll write it!

[starts writing "The color of the pen is - " but his hand shakes away involuntarily]

Fletcher: No! You write! Write it!

[his hand automatically turns to point the pen at him and he wrestles it to the ground]

Greta: [Enters the office] Mister Reede? Are you alright?

Fletcher: [rises from behind the desk with 'Blue' written all over his face] It's blue. It's blue! The god damn pen is blue!

Fletcher: [having farted in an elevator] It was me!

Busty Woman on Elevator: Everybody's been real nice.

Fletcher: Well, that's because you've got big jugs. I mean your boobs are huge. I mean, I wanna squeeze 'em. Mama!

[puckers up]

Judge Stevens: How are we this morning, Counselor?

Dana: Fine, thank you.

Judge Stevens: And how about you, Mr. Reede?

Fletcher: I'm a little upset about a bad sexual episode I had last night.

[Shocked pause]

Judge Stevens: Well, you're young. It'll happen more and more. In the meantime, what do you say we get down to business?

Greta: Mr. Reede, several years ago a friend of mine had a burglar on her roof, a burglar. He fell through the kitchen skylight, landed on a cutting board, on a butcher's knife, cutting his leg. The burglar sued my friend, he sued my friend. And because of guys like you *he won*. My friend had to pay the burglar $6,000. Is that justice?

Fletcher: No!

[Greta looks pleased, but then Fletcher continues]

Fletcher: I'd have got him ten.

[Greta stalks off, appalled]

Bum: Got any spare change?

Fletcher: Absolutely!

Bum: Could ya spare some?

Fletcher: Yes I could!

Bum: Will ya?

Fletcher: HMM-MMM!

Bum: How come?

Fletcher: Because I believe you will buy booze with it! I just want to get from my car to the office without being confronted by the decay of western society!... Plus I'm cheap! AHHH!

Bum: [Yells at Fletcher] Jerk off!

Audrey: Where were you?

Fletcher: Having sex.

Audrey: Well, I hope it was with someone *very* special!

Fletcher: No, see - that's the thing. I don't even like her, but she's a partner and I thought I could help my career by making her squeal.

[Fletcher throws the phone away and throws himself on the floor in disgust]

Bailiff: I found him like this in the bathroom, your honor. Somebody beat the hell out of him!

Judge: Who did this?

Fletcher: A mad man, your honor, a desperate fool at the end of his pitiful rope.

Judge: What did he look like?

Fletcher: About 6'2", 180lbs. big teeth, kinda gangly.

Fletcher: You scratched my car!

Motorpool Guy: Where?

Fletcher: [indicating with his hands] Right there!

Motorpool Guy: OH... That was already there.

Fletcher: You - -LIAR! You know what I am going to do about this?

Motorpool Guy: what?

Fletcher: Nothing! Because if I take it to small claims court, it will just drain 8 hours out of my life and you probably won't show up and even if I got the judgment you'd just stiff me anyway; so what I am going to do is piss and moan like an impotent jerk, and then bend over and take it up the tailpipe!

Motorpool Guy: [tossing the keys to Fletcher] You've been here before haven't ya?

Miranda: [coming up behind Fletcher] Fletcher.

Fletcher: [shouts] Holy hell!

Fat Coworker: Hey, what's up, Fletcher?

Fletcher: Your cholesterol, fatty!

Fletcher: [Fletcher is trying to convince Greta to believe her about Max's wish] You don't believe me, do you?

Greta: Of course not.

Fletcher: [laughs dryly] How ironic. Okay, ask me something you think I would normally lie about.

Greta: Alright. Remember, a few months ago, when I wanted a raise,

Fletcher: Forget it. I don't wanna do this!

Greta: and the company wouldn't give me one,

Fletcher: GRETA, PLEASE!

Greta: so you said you wanted to give me one out of your own pocket, but it would create jealously among the other secretaries. Now, was that true, or did you just not want to pony up the dough?

[Fletcher is speechless. Scene cuts to Greta packing her belongings]

[Fletcher is on the phone with his mother]

Fletcher: [listens for a moment] Because I didn't want to talk to you!

[pauses, listening]

Fletcher: Because you insist on talking about Dad's bowel movements; size, color, frequency, I"LL CALL YA LATER!

Fletcher: I was hoping after being married to me you'd have no more strength left.

Audrey: Well, you have to remember that when we were married, I wasn't having sex nearly as often as you were.

Fletcher: You had sex with her everytime you met, didn't you? DIDN'T YOU? LIAR!

Dana: He's badgering the witness!

Judge: It's his witness.

Fletcher: You slammed her! You dunked her donut! You gave her dog a Snausage! YOU STUFFED HER LIKE A THANKSGIVING TURKEY!

[Makes gobbling noises while pushing himself against the table]

Kenneth Falk: Alright! Alright, it's true, okay? I humped her brains out! There, now ya happy?

[awkward silence]

Fletcher: No further questions.

Fletcher: The pen is blue, the pen is blue, the goddamn pen is blue!

Max Reede: Do the claw to mom, dad, do the claw to mom!

Fletcher: Uh-oh. You've found the claw's only weakness. Subzero temperatures.

[Splatting sound]

Audrey: So did you have any trouble finding the place?

Fletcher: All right, I'm late. I ran oughta gas! The gauge is broken. Rough neighborhood too. Good thing I was wearing neutral gang colors. Might've had to rip out my nine and bust a cap! My mind on my money and my money on my mind!

Audrey: They'd never hurt you, Fletcher. You're their lawyer.

Fletcher: Ooh. That was below the belt. Try to keep the gloves up.

Max Reede: Mom, dad's taking me to see wrestling!

Audrey: Ugh. Fletcher!

Fletcher: Ugh. Audrey!

Gretta: And your ex-wife called, she wants to know when you're coming to pick up your son.

Fletcher: Oh, I'm such a shit!

[Fletcher witnesses a kiss of greeting between his ex-wife and Jerry]

Fletcher: Wow! That was a nice image...

[makes typing noise]

Fletcher: *Deleted*!

Fletcher: What is WRONG with me?

[monotonous]

Fletcher: I'm getting what I deserve. I'm reaping what I sow. I'm...

[covers his own mouth]

Fletcher: You brought your kids to your divorce?

Samantha: Sympathy.

Fletcher: Well, it's working! I feel sorry for them already!

Judge Stevens: Mr. Reede, one more word out of you, and I will hold you in contempt!

Fletcher: I hold *myself* in contempt! Why should you be any different?

Max Reede: Is wrestling real?

Fletcher: In the Olympics, yes. On channel 23, no.

Jane: Do you like my new dress?

Fletcher: What ever takes the focus off your head!

Driver: What's your problem, Schmuck!

Fletcher: I'm an inconsiderate prick!

Fletcher: [on phone] HI! Judge Stevens I'm scheduled to be in your courtroom in half an hour? Judge Stevens I badly, BADLY need a continuance!... Ill? Am I ill? That is the perfect question for you to ask!.

[to Greta]

Fletcher: GRETA please LIE to him for me!

Greta: I remember when you bought me this antique silver fram from tiffany's... TIFFANY'S?

Fletcher: [in a high pitched voice] ... Garage sale $6.50 marked down from $10.00!"

Fletcher: [having been charged a huge amount to get his car back. He reaches for an air freshener] I'm taking this!

Fletcher: Greta, please! I'm on my knees in a $900 suit.

Max Reede: If I keep making this face... will it get stuck that way?

Fletcher: Uh uh. As a matter of fact, some people make a very good living that way.

Fletcher: The fact that my client has been ridden more than Seattle Slew is irrelevant.

[the lights turn on after Max makes a wish and blows out the candles]

Max Reede: Mom? Dad?

[Audrey and Fletcher are kissing]

Fletcher: MAX? Did you wish for your mom and I to get back together again?

Max Reede: No. I wished for rollerblades!

Audrey: Uh... wanna cut the cake... Dad?

Fletcher: I would love to... but I have this horrible pain in my arm...

Audrey: Oh no... run ITS THE CLAW!

Fletcher: NOTHING CAN STOP THE CLAWWWW!

Fletcher: Audrey, great news; both my legs are broken so they can't take me right to jail.

Jerry: [pretends to hit Max] One, two three, four,five, and one for good luck!

Fletcher: [to Audrey] He struck the child, did you see that?

Dana: You Wanna play hard ball? I'm game.

Fletcher: [mockingly] Wanna play hard ball? I'm game.

Fletcher: Max! It's 8:45, you made the wish at 8:15. I've been able to lie for the past half hour.

Max Reede: So you were - ?

Fletcher: No! It was the truth. I just wanted to be honest with you, Max. I always want to be honest with you.

Jerry: Hey, great gift dad.

Fletcher: Thanks son. I'm so glad my gift can bring the two of them together. My plan to phase myself out is almost complete.

Fat Coworker: What's Up, Fletcher?

Fletcher: Your cholesterol, Fatty! Dead man walkin'!

Randy: Hey, Fletcher!

Fletcher: Hey! You're not important enough to remember!

Zit Boy: What'll it be, Fletcher?

Fletcher: A pock mark, eventually!

Greta: Mr. Reede?

Fletcher: Don't ask! For God sake, don't ask!

Fletcher: Mrs. Cole, the only problem here is that after you've provided years of faithful service and loving support raising his children - They are his?

Samantha: Oh yeah. One for sure.

Fletcher: After all that, your husband wants to deny you a fair and equitable share of the marital assets based on one single act of indiscretion.

Samantha: Seven.

Fletcher: Beg your pardon?

Samantha: Seven single acts of indiscretion.

Fletcher: SEVEN! acts of indiscretion, only one of which he has any evidence and all of which he himself is responsible for.

[the court erupts]

Judge Stevens: Order! Order! ORDER!

Fletcher: [to crowd] Knock it off!

Judge Stevens: SIT DOWN!

Fletcher: Is this guy right for you? I mean, he's just so, not me!

Audrey: Yes, that's one of his best qualities.

Fletcher: Yeah, but he's kind of, magoo... I'm sorry.

Audrey: You're wrong! I mean, sometimes, maybe yes, he is a litte bit...

Fletcher: Magoo!

Audrey: Yes.

Fletcher: Are you marrying this guy because you're mad at me?

Audrey: No - I divorced you because I was mad at you.

Fletcher: Your honor, I object!

Judge: Why?

Fletcher: Because it's devastating to my case!

Judge: Overruled.

Fletcher: Good call!

Fletcher: Mr. Falk, would I be accurate, if I described your relationship with Mrs. Cole as totally professional? I *object*, Your Honor, and I move to strike!

Judge Stevens: Mr. Reede, I don't know what you're on, but you better get to the point, and quick!

Fletcher: Where would Tina Turner be right now if she'd rolled over and said, "Hit me again, Ike, and put some stank on it!"? Rollin' on the river, that's where she'd be. But she's beyond Thunderdome, because she decided to send a message?

[yells]

Fletcher: Wake up, sisters! There is nooooooo such thing as a weaker sex!

Samantha: I want my money. I am not going to end up a thirty-one year old divorcée on welfare because my scumbag attorney had a sudden attack of conscience.

Fletcher: Thirty-one?

Audrey: Do you know what your son was doing at 8:15 last night?

Fletcher: No?

Audrey: He was making a wish that for a whole day, his father couldn't tell a lie.

Fletcher: [Realizing] Oh, my god, that's it!

Judge Stevens: Mr. Reede, do we have a settlement?

Fletcher: Noooo!

Fletcher: Why don't you go play in the office a minute. Sue someone for everything they've got. Maybe you send a fax to one of your girlfriends!

Greta: [in an annoyed tone] You told me you bought this picture frame at Tiffany's. Tiffany's?

Fletcher: [high-pitched voice] Garage sale six-fifty marked down from ten.

[Greta drops picture frame and smashes]

Judge Stevens: I understand both parties have agreed to joint custody, is that correct?

Dana: Yes.

Fletcher: Yes.

Samantha: No! I'm contesting custody.

Fletcher: What?

Samantha: If I get sole custody of the kids, that's another 10 grand in child support payments.

Fletcher: You just won 11 million dollars!

Max Reede: Look at what Dad got me!

Jerry: Woah, great! Hey, you know what? I have my glove in the car. Why don't you and I go to the park and play catch. Then we can rub oil in it, and wrap a big rubber band around it! It'll be great!

[to Fletcher]

Jerry: Hey, great gift, Dad!

Fletcher: [to Jerry] Thanks, son!

Lawyer on Courthouse Stairs: Hey, Fletcher, how'd it go in there?

Fletcher: Just another victory for the wrongly accused.

Lawyer on Courthouse Stairs: Yeah, right.

Fletcher: Hey, creepy. Happy Birthday. How old are you now? 22? 23?

Max Reede: I'm 5, Dad.

Fletcher: Okay.

[pretends to write]

Fletcher: Return the beer keg. Cancel the dancing girls.

Samantha: You look like you're having a rough morning.

Fletcher: Ding ding ding! What do we have for her, Johnny?

Judge Stevens: Afternoon, Counselors. Are we ready to begin?

Fletcher: No, sir! We are NOT ready to begin, because my client has not arrived!

[Samantha and children enter]

Samantha: [to children] Hurry up! Move it!

Fletcher: [singing to the tune of Mighty Mouse] Here she comes to wreck the daaaay!

Judge Stevens: MISTER Reede!

Fletcher: Sorry, Your Honor!

Publicist: Mr. Reed, do you have a moment?

Fletcher: I'm sorry, I'm very late. It's my day to be with my son.

Publicist: A couple of reporters want to talk to you about your big win today.

Fletcher: Oh, yeah? How's my hair?

Fletcher: Maximus, I'm outta here.

Max Reede: Bye, Dad.

Fletcher: [to Jerry] Jerry, enjoy my wife.

Skull: [after being acquitted] Mr. Reed, great job. Say, do you want your coat back?

Fletcher: No, I'm sure you'll be needing it again.

[to himself]

Fletcher: And again.

Fletcher: I'll give you a raise!

Greta: Here's your *raise*.

[gives him the finger]

Max Reede: [shows his baseball glove] Look at what Dad got me.

Jerry: Wow, great. Hey, you know what, I have my glove in the car. Maybe we could stop at the park on the way home and play catch. Then tonight we can rub oil in it and wrap a big rubber band around it. It'll be great.

[to Fletcher]

Jerry: Hey, great gift, Dad.

Fletcher: [sarcastically] Thanks, son.

[to Audrey]

Fletcher: I'm so glad my gift could bring those two together. I plan to phase myself out as almost complete.

Fletcher: Before you have a kid, everyone tells you, "It's the best thing you'll ever do." And as soon as you get the baby back from the hospital, those same people are like, "Don't worry, it gets better."

Fletcher: You're an old man with a hat.

[watching Mackay testing the curry in the prison kitchens]

Fletcher: Course, he sees 'imself as an authority on curry, he does, on account of where he was stationed in the army.

Rudge: Where? India?

Fletcher: No, Bradford.

[Trying to make small talk with Fletcher]

Mr Beal: Long to do?

Fletcher: Long enough.

Mr Beal: What you in for?

Fletcher: Got caught.

Bunny Warren: 'Ere Fletch!

Fletcher: I'm late.

Bunny Warren: Look, I've got a letter from the wife, can you read it to me?

Fletcher: Listen Bunny, if you can't read, how do you know it's from your wife?

Bunny Warren: It's got Elaine's scent.

Fletcher: Cor, where's Elaine work? A tarpaulin factory?

Fletcher: You're lookin' a bit down in the mouth, Mr Barrowclough, anything the matter?

Mr Barrowclough: Oh, nothing much. The usual. Domestic crisis.

Fletcher: Oh dear. Mrs Barrowclough left you, has she?

Mr Barrowclough: Unhappily... no Fletcher.

Fletcher: I wouldn't leave that bike there if I was you.

Mr Beal: When I want your opinion, I'll ask for it.

Fletcher: Suit yourself. But there are one or two thieves in 'ere. Know what I mean?

[Having been kidnapped and dumped outside jail, Fletcher and Godber try to break back in. They have to pass a farm where the old farmer is leaning on the gate. Fletcher riding is a bike, and Godber jogging alongside]

Fletcher: [talking to Godber] Come on, come on, don't flag, jab, jab.

[talks to the farmer]

Fletcher: It's the big one next week, sir.

Farmer's wife: Who was that?

Farmer: Couple of escaped convicts.

Farmer's wife: Ohhh.

[it's after lights out and lock up. There is the distant sound of a fellow inmate groaning mid-nightmare]

Godber: You awake, Fletch?

Fletcher: No.

Godber: It's that bloke, Atkinson.

Fletcher: I know.

Godber: Keeps getting these terrible nightmares.

Fletcher: Yeah.

Godber: He's told the shrink about 'em, but all he's given 'im is aspirin. You have to feel compassion, don't you? A human soul in such torment.

Fletcher: Hmm.

[Atkinson bellows something in the distance]

Fletcher: [shouts] Belt up, Atkinson, you noisy scrote.

Fletcher: Success? Let me tell you about success. I had a pal, come to London 28 years ago without two ha'pennies to rub together. Now he managed to save up enough to buy a little hand cart and he went round collecting all old newspapers. Do you what he's worth today?

Mr Barrowclough: No, what?

Fletcher: Nothing. And he still owes for the hand cart.

Fletcher: Show me a man who laughs at defeat and I will show you a black chiropodist with a sense of humour.

Harry Grout: Now we need someone reliable as trainer.

Fletcher: Don't look at me. I've grown disenchanted with the game. Twenty years of supporting Orient does that for a man.

[At lunch time]

Bunny Warren: What's the 'old up Fletch?

Fletcher: It's the defrocked dentist havin' a go at the cuisine again.

Mackay: Fletcher!

Fletcher: Sir.

Mackay: If you want to sing, I suggest you form a Slade Prison Glee Club.

Fletcher: Glee?

Godber: Hey, why don't we nick a chicken?

Fletcher: Don't be silly, it's Wednesday afternoon. Where we going to get sage and onion stuffing, eh?

[Fletcher finally gives in and reads Bunny's letter]

Fletcher: All right, I'll just you the 'ighlights, all right? 'Dearest Bunny, blah blah blah, blah blah blah, blah blah blah, blah blah blah, blah blah...

[pause as he turns the page]

Fletcher: blah.

Bunny Warren: Blah blah blah what?

Fletcher: It's trivia, Bunny, it's just trivia, it's the weather, her mother's catarrh, she's retiled the lav, the canary's got haemorrhoids, she's met a welder at the Fiesta Club and she's thinking of movin' in with him. All right? Must rush. Can't hang about.

[exits]

Bunny Warren: But...

[pauses]

Bunny Warren: ...we 'aven't got a canary.

[discussing a new arrival]

Godber: He's been sitting in his cell since chow, just staring at the wall.

Fletcher: Ah well, he's just had his first experience of your cottage pie. Best not to move about too much after that.

[At lunch, Godber and Lotterby are serving cottage pie and baked beans]

Fletcher: Hello, Len.

Godber: All right, Fletch?

Fletcher: Listen, it's the laddo's first day in 'ere. Do 'im a favour, will you? Give 'im a small portion.

Fletcher: 'Ere, you owe me some darning wool.

Godber: I already gave you some.

Fletcher: That was in exchange for the orange.

Godber: Tangerine. Anyway, that was to pay me for the stamp.

Fletcher: What stamp?

Godber: For your pools.

Fletcher: I paid you for the stamp with a squirt of me toothpaste.

Godber: No, that was for the darning wool.

Fletcher: You're not doing yourself any favours, are you Banyard? All you're doing is getting up other people's noses.

Banyard: We have certain rights.

Fletcher: No we don't, we're in the nick.

Ives: I suppose you think you're entitled to something better just because you went to a public school, is that it?

Banyard: On the contrary, Ives, I'm well used to this kind of food, I went to Harrow.

Fletcher: Oh that's a good advert for the public school system, prepares you for the nick. Course it's harder in here for him than for most of us, 'cause he has had further to drop. Professional man, you see. Dentist. Tragic.

Ives: What do you mean, Fletcher, 'tragic'? It's no laughing matter for that woman he had under the laughing gas.

Banyard: There's no need for that, Ives. We don't have to keep unearthing each other's past, I'm paying for my peccadilloes.

Fletcher: Oh that's good. If you're paying I'll have a large one.

Bunny Warren: What's a peccadillo?

Ives: It's a South African bird. Flies backwards to stop getting the sand in its eyes.

Bunny Warren: No. No. I know what you mean though. It's an animal. Called the Armadildo.

Banyard: The Armadildo.

Fletcher: No, that was King Arthur's codpiece. I think that's what I'm eating an' all.

[Fletcher and Godber have found their way back to the coach they were kidnapped in. It's surrounded by police]

Godber: What is it?

Fletcher: Cops.

Godber: Copse? What, you mean like a wooded glade?

Fletcher: Yeah. A wooded glade crawlin' with bleedin' cops.

[Fletcher and Rudge are on their way to the kitchens when another inmate passes by]

Fletcher: Watch out for 'im. 'Es the mad butcher of Slade prison.

Rudge: What did he do?

Fletcher: Fiddle the VAT on his sausages.

Fletcher: 'Ere Grouty, listen to this.

Harry Grout: Listen to what?

Fletcher: You know Robbie Patten who works in the laundry, well 'is wife wanted a divorce so she goes to the solicitor and 'e says "well, you've got to 'ave grounds". "What's grounds" she says. So 'e says "Firstly, there's insanity", well Robbie's a bit of a dipstick, like, but 'e's not certifiable. "Secondly there's desertion", well 'e's in 'ere, 'e can't go nowhere. "Third there's cruelty", well as you know 'e wouldn't hurt a fly "so that leaves adultery", "what's adultery" she says, so 'e tells 'er and she says "ah. I think we've got 'im there. 'E is not the father of my child!".

Godber: I've had it with you.

Fletcher: You what?

Godber: You've really got up my goat these past two weeks.

Fletcher: Wrong Godber. I *get* your goat. I don't get up your goat. I get up your nose or on your wick.

Godber: Well just lately you've done all three.

Fletcher: [rings Mr Beal's stolen bicycle bell]

Godber: So that's what you've got is it?

Fletcher: Yeah, hardly ever been used.

Godber: What are you gonna use it for?

Fletcher: I dunno.

Godber: Well why'd you nick it?

Fletcher: He'd got one and I 'adn't.

Mackay: I was in the village today. There were some interesting reports. Sightings you might say.

Fletcher: UFOs?

Mackay: Indeed. Unidentified *Fleeing* Objects.

Fletcher: Oh, look, Oaksey, I had your name down here all along. It's just I've spelled it MacMillan.

Mackay: You're an unlikely choice as trainer, Fletcher.

Fletcher: Well, it was the lads what decided it.

Mackay: Yet you've always struck me as a man who despises physical activity.

Fletcher: Oh, not in others sir.

Godber: I can't understand why Mackay hasn't come down on us like a pile of bricks.

Fletcher: 'Cause he lost something in the kitchen today, that's why.

Godber: What? Pride, you mean?

Fletcher: Nah, something else. Shift.

Godber: Why?

Fletcher: It's hidden in your mattress.

Godber: Oh, I see, so if we get a search I'm the one who gets the blame.

Fletcher: Oh, yes, oh, yes, oh, yes.

Godber: You think of everything, you do.

Fletcher: I try.

Fletcher: Good morning Mr Mackay, Mr Beal.

Mr Beal: How'd you know my name?

Fletcher: Oh word gets around sir, doesn't take long. I bet you're already a legend on some bog walls.

Fletcher: [talking to Rudge in the bathrooms] Oh, one more thing. Don't hang about in 'ere too long. Ambush Alley they call this - not a safe place in the nick. You get 'em all in 'ere, homosexuals, transvestites, the lot. I tell ya, when someone just comes in 'ere, sits down and gets on with it, it's like a breath of fresh air.

[Fletcher is on the prison farm, leaning on his shovel next to the pig sty and yawning. Mr Barrowclough arrives accompanied by Rudge, a new inmate at Slade]

Fletcher: Oh, morning Mr Barrowclough.

Mr Barrowclough: Busy, Fletcher?

Fletcher: Oh busier than ever, sir. Mind I never complain.

Mr Barrowclough: I can't actually see what it is you're supposed to be doing.

Fletcher: It's the pigs, sir. They won't eat without my reassuring presence. Very highly strung your average pig, you know.

[Sees Rudge]

Fletcher: Who's he?

Mr Barrowclough: Oh, Rudge. Newly assigned to the farm.

Fletcher: How'd he work that then?

Mr Barrowclough: Pardon?

Fletcher: What? First day inside, the farm? What is he, the governor's nephew?

[breaking back into prison]

Godber: This is just like the wooden horse.

Fletcher: What wooden 'orse?

Godber: The Greeks and the Trojans. That's how the Greeks got into Troy.

Fletcher: Would you mind savin' the 'istory lesson til we get back into our flowery dell?

Fletcher: A captain, Godber, has to possess certain attributes which set him apart from the rest of his team, that is why I've chosen Light Fingered Larry.

Godber: Urquart? What attributes has he got?

Fletcher: 'Alf an ounce of snout which he's now given to me, all right?

Fletcher: Cheer up, might never 'appen.

Rudge: Already 'as, I'm 'ere ain't I?

Fletcher: Now look. Whatever you're in 'ere for you did it didn't ya?

Rudge: Banged to rights? Yeah!

Fletcher: Yeah. Just like me. If we 'adn't have been caught we'd have been Jack the lad wouldn't we? But no. We was. We was collared, so don't bleat. If you can't do the time, don't do the crime.

Fletcher: Do you see yon screw with his looks so vain, with his brand new key on his brand new chain, with a face like a ferret and a pea for a brain, with his hand on his whistle in the morning.

Fletcher: What's the matter with you?

Godber: We're still banged up in this cell aren't we, while Oakes is Hardy Kruger.

Fletcher: Hardy Kruger?

Godber: "The One that got away". A film starring Hardy Kruger.

Fletcher: Don't worry. Before too long he'll be Googie Withers again.

Godber: Googie Withers?

Fletcher: "Within these walls".

Fletcher: We got plenty of strength at the back, one thing we're not short of is stoppers. What we need now is a bit of creative mid-field flair.

Godber: From what I saw of him Rudge could provide that. Revelation he was.

Fletcher: Yeah. Reckons he had a trial for Brentford before he had a trial for shoplifting.

Harry Grout: Now then.

Fletcher: Listen Grouty, if it's about the teeth.

Harry Grout: What?

Fletcher: Well, I realise you are entitled to a first refusal.

Harry Grout: Are you referring to Mackay's missing molars?

Fletcher: I'm assuming that's why I was sent for. I mean, nothing gets past you Grouty.

Harry Grout: Oh no. If you've got them it's your tickle.

Rudge: Who was that fellow on the landing?

Fletcher: Who? Him? Harry Grout. He runs this prison.

Rudge: I thought that was the governor's job.

Fletcher: No only officially sonny. Next time you meet him bow, curtsy or lick his boots if he asks, all right?

Godber: [discussing Rudge the new arrival] He's only a kid.

Fletcher: Oh listen to 'er.

Godber: No, I just remember the first night I come in here. How I felt when that door banged shut. Hey, you should go and have a word with him.

Fletcher: Why?

Godber: You're good at that sort of thing. You perked me up when I first arrived.

Fletcher: Listen, I broke you in Godber because you was forced upon *my* cell and it was in *my* interests not to 'ave a manic depressive in the bottom bunk.

Fletcher: Here you are lad. Shovel it.

Rudge: Shovel what?

Fletcher: Shovel that.

Rudge: Shovel it where?

Fletcher: From here to there.

Rudge: Why?

Fletcher: Why? Ah, if only we knew that sonny, but we don't do we. Ours not to reason why, ours but to clean the sty. Wordsworth.

Mr Barrowclough: This job is a privilege, you know.

Fletcher: For the pigs, yeah.

Governor: Oh, well-played Slade. Who is that?

Fletcher: That's Armstrong, sir.

Governor: Shame. He's going out next month, if we have any more matches.

Fletcher: Yeah, he'll be choked he will.

Mr Beal: Where are you going with that?

Fletcher: Pigswill.

Mr Beal: What?

Fletcher: Swill for the pigs, sir, pigswill.

Fletcher: I thought I told you to wait in the car.

Mackay: I won't buy it, Fletcher.

Fletcher: That's just as well 'cause it ain't for sale.

Fletcher: You're in the team, so don't quibble about who else is in the team.

Banyard: I don't know why you kowtow to that man, Grout.

Fletcher: I know you don't, Mr Banyard. That's why your nose looks like it does.

Fletcher: Well, you know what they say. Nothing dentured nothing gained.

Mr Beal: I used to play a bit. In goal.

Fletcher: Oh, yeah. I can just see you as custodian, sir.

Fletcher: Who are all these people, sir? I mean, me and the lads was given to understand that there would be a fair smattering of celebrities.

Mackay: See that red-haired man? Tells the weather on Anglia TV. And there's a pair of script writers for someone quite famous, and Mr Bainbridge himself has just finished a season at the Al Hambra Swansea.

Fletcher: I'll tell the lads. They'll be right chuffed.

Bunny Warren: Who are they, Fletch?

Fletcher: A weather man, eight small parts and a widow twanky, now go and get changed.

Fletcher: Morning, Atkinson. Sleeping better are we?

Atkinson: I slept like a top 'til some stupid cretin started shouting.

Samson: Oi, Fletcher.

Harry Grout: There'll be something for you in your Christmas stocking, Fletcher.

Fletcher: Oh, thank you sir. I'll look forward to that, sir.

Governor: [discussing who may be on the celebrity football team] Didn't you mention that comedian chap? Wh-What's his name? Jimmy Tarbrush?

Mackay: Buck, sir.

Governor: Yes. Buck Tarbrush.

Mackay: Well, unhappily he's indisposed sir.

Governor: Oh, dear.

[he and Mackay leave]

Fletcher: Buck Tarbrush. We should be lucky to get Basil Brush.

Governor: You're saying Oakes forced you down the delivery hatch?

Fletcher: At gunpoint, sir. Well, he had to do something or we would have blown the whistle on him. We'd have gone to see Mr Mackay who happened to have the whistle at the time.

Fletcher: Let go of it, Mr. Rutherford. You can't stop it.

David 'Mo' Rutherford: I can shut you down.

Fletcher: [laughs] I don't know. I really don't know. I don't think anybody'd pay too much attention to a disreputable guy like you. You're a rogue, you're a crook in the pay of the ice cream companies just out trying to screw the competition.

David 'Mo' Rutherford: I could always kill you.

Col. Deal: [Refering to the new revolutionary leader of the country] Five years in jail, and within six months of coming out, he's on his way to the President's Palace!

Fletcher: He spent that six months here as a gardener. Got to know him pretty well. Lousy gardener! I hope he'll make a better president. Anyhow, going to jail is considered a shortcut to power these days!

Col. Deal: I hope it never happens in the army!

Fletcher: Hitting a poor scholar isn't going to cure your ignorance, my friend.

Senator: The war's over. Our side won the war. Now we must busy ourselves winning the peace. And Fletcher, there's an old saying: To the victors belong the spoils.

Fletcher: There's another old saying, Senator: Don't piss down my back and tell me it's raining.

[last lines]

[Fletcher knows he's talking to Josey Wales]

Fletcher: I think I'll go down to Mexico to try to find him.

Josey Wales: And then?

Fletcher: He's got the first move. I owe him that. I think I'll try to tell him the war is over. What do you say, Mr. Wilson?

Josey Wales: I reckon so. I guess we all died a little in that damn war.

Senator: Fletcher, there's an old saying, to the victors belong the spoils.

Fletcher: There's another old saying Senator. Don't piss down my back and tell me it's raining.

Fletcher: Damn you, Senator. You promised me those men would be decently treated.

Senator Lane: They were decently treated. They were decently fed and then they were decently shot. Those men are common outlaws, nothing more.

Fletcher: [Fletcher notices Terrell standing with Lane] What the hell is this Redleg doin' here? You said regular Federal authorities would be handling this!

Senator Lane: Captain Terrell is the regular Federal authority now.

Fletcher: Captain Terrell is a bloodthirsty sonofabitch! He's a looter and a pillager! He's the worst enemy those men have got!

[telling Capt. Terrell why they need to go in a different direction than Wales' true course]

Fletcher: Look at those boys over there: tied-down guns. Bounty hunters. Come out of a war, got no other way to make a livin'. Every last mother's son of them wants that money you got on Wales' head. Now, you and me didn't ride all that way for that. I don't want to hear Wales dead... I want to SEE Wales dead.

Fletcher: He's

[Josey]

Fletcher: has got the first move And I'd tell him.

Josey Wales: What's that?

Fletcher: That the war is over.

Josey Wales: I reckon we all lost a little bit in that damn war.