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:
You're right, I'm on drugs. I'm a junkie, you know, I mainline, I freebase, I put cocaine on my cornflakes...
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: Remember the Alamo?