[Greg is trying to fit his large bag into the overhead bin]
Flight Attendant: I'm sorry, sir, you're gonna have to check that.
Greg Focker: I got it.
Flight Attendant: No, I'm sorry, that bag won't fit.
Greg Focker: No, no, I'm not - hey, I'm not checking my bag, okay?
Flight Attendant: There's no need to raise your voice, sir.
Greg Focker: I'm not raising my voice. THIS WOULD BE RAISING MY VOICE TO YOU, okay? I don't want to check my bag, okay? And, by the way, your airline? You SUCK at checking bags, okay, because I already did that once and you lost it, and then I had everything screwed up very badly for me, okay?
Flight Attendant: Well, I can assure you that your bag will be placed safely below deck with the other luggage...
Greg Focker: Oh, yeah? How do you know my bag will be safe below with the other luggage? Huh? Are you physically going to take my bag and put it beneath the plane? Are you going to go right now outside, with the guys with the earmuffs, and go put it in there?
Flight Attendant: No...
Greg Focker: No? Okay, then shut your piehole and listen to me when I say that I am FINISHED with the checking-of-the-bags CONVERSATION.
Flight Attendant: Sir, we have a policy on this airline that if a bag is this large we take...
Greg Focker: okay you know what, take you scrubby little paws *off* my bag, okay? It's not like I have a bomb in here. It's not like I wanna blow up the plane. I just want to store my bag according to your safety regulations.
Flight Attendant: Sir, sir!
Greg Focker: Hey, hey, If you would take a second, take the little sticks out of your head, clean out your ears, and maybe you would see that I'm a person who has feelings, and all I have to do is do what I wanna do and all I want to do is hold on to my bag and not listen to you! And the only way that I would ever let go of my bag would be if you came over here right now and tried to pry it from my dead, lifeless fingers, okay? If you can get it from my kung-fu grip then you can come and have it, okay? Otherwise, step off, *****.
Jack Byrnes: Oh, geez. I just thought of something.
Dina Byrnes: What?
Jack Byrnes: Pam's middle name.
Dina Byrnes: Martha... Oh, no.
Jack Byrnes, Dina Byrnes: Pamela Martha Focker.
Pam Byrnes: Greg Honey, how are you doing?
Greg Focker: Oh great, considering I desecrated your Grandma's remains, found out you were engaged, and had your Father ask me to milk him.
Don't pass me by don't make me cry don't make me blue
'Cause you know darling I love only you
You'll never know it hurt me so
How I hate to see you go
Don't pass me by don't make me cry
Why don't we do it in the road
Why don't we do it in the road
Why don't we do it in the road
Why don't we do it in the road
No one will be watching us
Why don't we do it in the road
Why don't we do it in the road
Why don't we do it in the road
Why don't we do it in the road
Why don't we do it in the road
No one will be watching us
Why don't we do it in the road
Why don't we do it in the road
Why don't we do it in the road
Why don't we do it in the road
Why don't we do it in the road
No one will be watching us
Why don't we do it in the road
KMC Community Forums
Nov 22nd, 2008 11:33 AM
