Seymour Goldfarb Jr Quotes in The Cannonball Run (1981)

[during the brawl with the mean bikers, Seymour Goldfarb Jr stands aside with his girlfriend, until one of the bikers menacingly approaches them, holding heavy wrench]

Seymour Goldfarb Jr: [to his girlfriend] Step back, my dear.

[the girl steps back. Seymour makes karate moves, with the music of James Bond movies is played in the background]

Seymour Goldfarb Jr: [to the biker] I must warn you, I'm Roger Moore!

Biker: [frowns] Who?

Seymour Goldfarb Jr: [bends forward so the biker can hear him better] Roger Moore!

[the biker, unimpressed, punches Seymour in the mouth. Seymour groans in pain, covers his mouth, then helplessly slumps to the ground]

Seymour Goldfarb Jr: Maybe next year, we'll do this again.

[Seymour pulls up to the starting line with his lights off]

Seymour Goldfarb Jr: Would you mind?

[the official punches his time card and gives it to him]

Seymour Goldfarb Jr: Thank you.

Organizer: Might be easier with your lights on.

Seymour Goldfarb Jr: Why advertise?

[JJ has "tackled" all the other contestants at the end]

Seymour Goldfarb Jr: Well, I must say, that's not a very sporting way to win.

Jamie Blake: No, it was a shitty way to win!

[Seymour arrives at the motel in his 1963 Aston Martin DB5 with one of his girlfriends under his Roger Moore persona]

Seymour Goldfarb Jr: Good day. I am here to participate in your little jaunt to California.

Female Race Official: Well, of course. If you would sign in here, please.

[Seymour signs under the legendary actor Roger Moore's name]

Boy with Camera: [taking a picture of his little brother] Hold still, Pettie. Say "Cheese".

Seymour Goldfarb Jr: I realize the novelty of a major celebrity entering your little race, but kindly resist the temptation and keep the media coverage to a minimum. Thank you.

Seymour Goldfarb Jr: [At the Goldfarb compound, Seymour greets his mother] Mother... I've trust you had a pleasant day.

Mom Goldfarb: A nightmare. A living nightmare. You are killing me, Seymour. Killing me a slow death with this idiot spy business.

Seymour Goldfarb Jr: Mother, you don't understand.

Mom Goldfarb: Oh, what is there to understand? I'm looking at my son, Seymour Goldfarb, Jr., son of Seymour Goldfarb, God rest his soul, and heir to the Goldfarb Girdles fortune. And what is he doing? Walking around, acting like he was some goy movie star named Roger Moore. And for this I sent you to the best schools? For this I'm spending eight thousand on orthodonture work? For this I'm going broke paying that Beverly Hills analyst? And now, ha ha...

[lifts the napkin, revealing Seymour's Walther PPK pistol]

Mom Goldfarb: ... this. The sleep-in maid found it under your pillow this morning. What is the meaning of this?

Seymour Goldfarb Jr: [icy as he grabs the gun] The meaning, mother dear, is a quick death. I've warned you not to interfere in my affairs.

Mom Goldfarb: [unconvinced; pushes the gun away] Seymour, put that thing away. It's liable to go off.

Seymour Goldfarb Jr: I'm terribly sorry, mother, but you know too much. You see, in my business, even the deepest family relationships aren't worth a farthing.

Mom Goldfarb: [still unconvinced] Farthing, smarthing.

[Seymour pulls the slide back and forth, then holds his mother at gunpoint]

Mom Goldfarb: [shocked] No!

Seymour Goldfarb Jr: Zie gezundt, mama.

[Seymour pulls the trigger, only to shoot out a flag that says "Bang!", thus revealing to be a fake gun, to his amusement; laughs]

Mom Goldfarb: [frustrated] Oy! Where did I go wrong?

Seymour Goldfarb Jr: You know something, mama? You're too Jewish.