Liar Liar Quotes

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.
[opens glove compartment and groans when a wad of tickets pops out]
Fletcher: ... be gentle.

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!

Fletcher: Mrs. Cole, is this a copy of your driver's license?
[shows paper]
Samantha: That's right.
Fletcher: It says here you are a blonde, are you? If you don't remember, perhaps Mr. Falk 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 me 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] Prenuptial agreements.
Fletcher: Prenuptial agreements! This contract is void! The fact that my client has been ridden 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

brown-nose 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] Keep 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.

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 goddamn pen is blue!

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?

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?

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", 180 pounds, big teeth, kinda gangly.

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 drops to the floor in

disgust]