Jonathan:
Mon crayon est large.
Sasha:
You must be Manolo.
Manolo:
You must be Sasha.
Jonathan:
You must be going.
Jonathan:
I would kill or die to make love to you.
Al:
It's not a camera, it's a Nikon.
Al:
No. And that's final!
Jonathan:
Mom.
Maria:
Al!
Jonathan:
How 'bout a Whopper? No. Make that a double Whopper. With American cheese, and large American fries. And a great big American chocolate shake.
[Jonathan has just crossed from East Berlin to West Berlin and is meeting with an American MP]
Jonathan:
Am I in West Berlin now?
M.P.:
You sure are.
Jonathan:
[looking back at East Berlin and giving it the finger] Fuck you!
[looking back to the M.P]
Jonathan:
Good night.
[heads off]
M.P.:
[looking at Jonathan, then looking at East Berlin] I've been wanting to do that for the last six months.
Sasha:
Meet me at the Cafe Friedrichstrasse.
Sasha:
Then, um, that is second lie, Jonathan. Do not let there be a third.
Jonathan:
Cheryl Brewster. The spy from Pittsburg.
Jonathan:
I don't know Manolo, I think it's hopeless. I'm never going to get laid!
Professor:
Although that thought may be of great comfort to the women of the world Mr. Moore, as a future veterinarian, you should know that every dog eventually has his day.
[students laugh]
Professor:
Go ahead. Make my day.
Jonathan:
I'm not your type. I'm not a weirgin.
Punkers:
We love it! We love it!
Operative:
Vas is this?
Jonathan:
Strudel.
Jonathan:
Oh, Dad, I'm sorry. It was in my backpack when I jumped into the moat.
Maria:
You, uh, jumped into a moat?
Al:
You jumped in a moat with my Nikon?
Jonathan:
Yeah, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to, I had to... I... it's kind of a long story.
Al:
I've got all night.
Jonathan:
Voulez vous coucher avec moi ce soir?
Paris Blond:
What?
Jonathan:
Voulez vous coucher avec moi ce soir?
Jonathan:
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You're right, I'm on drugs. I'm a junkie, you know, I mainline, I freebase, I put cocaine on my cornflakes...
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Waiter:
Avec de l'eau?
Jonathan:
A Victor who?
Waiter:
With water?
Manolo:
Swedish chicks dig terrorists.
Jonathan:
You still a Homeboy?
Manolo:
You still a white boy? Yeah, you're in a gang, you're in a gang for life.
Jonathan:
Think the Homeboys could do me a little favor?
Manolo:
Yeah.
Duty Officer:
All right, move those cars, this is the CIA.
Manolo:
You got no juice here, man.
Bob Jensen:
Yeah, well this is Government juice, Pachuco.
Manolo:
Don't show me your badges, we don't know nothing about no stinking badges.
[the CIA men pull out their pistols]
Bob Jensen:
Look, we're not playing games here, greaseball!
Manolo:
Neither are we, Amigo.
[about 25 Gangbangers point various guns at the CIA men]
Manolo:
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