We-we Quotes

Mamá Imelda: [the Rivera family spots Mamá Imelda at the desk of a Family Reunion agent] I demand to speak to the person in charge.
Departures Agent: Sorry, señora it says here no one put up your photo.
Mamá Imelda: My family always, ALWAYS puts my photo on the ofrenda
[pulls off her shoe and begins beating the computer]

Mamá Imelda: That devil box tells you nothing but lies.
Papá Julio: [Approaches with fear] Mamá Imelda?
Mamá Imelda: Oh, mi familia! They wouldn't let me cross the bridge.
[Puts her shoe back on]
Mamá Imelda: Tell this woman and her devil box that my photo is on the ofrenda.

Papá Julio: Well, we-we never made it made it to the ofrenda.
Mamá Imelda: What?
Papá Julio: We ran into a, a...
[the family parts to reveal Miguel]
Mamá Imelda: [Gasp] Miguel?
Miguel: [Gives a hesitant wave] Mamá Imelda.
Mamá Imelda: What is going

on?
Clerk: [Office door opens] You the Rivera family?
[States matter-of-factly]
Clerk: Well, you're cursed.

[the Zombie Redneck Torture Family are attacking the cabin]
Curt: Look. We gotta lock this place down.
Marty: He's right.
Curt: We'll go room by room. Barricade every window and door. We gotta play it safe. No matter what happens, we have to stay together.
Hadley: [Watching the kids from the control

room, Hadley slaps his forehead] Fuck!
Sitterson: Calm down. Watch the master work.
[Sitterson pushes buttons on the control panel. A grille opens in a cabin wall and a gas pours through it; Curt enters the room and is affected by the gas at once]
Curt: This isn't right.
Holden: What? What's the matter?

Curt: Th-This isn't right. We should split up. We-We can cover more ground that way.
Holden: [also affected by the gas] Yeah... Yeah. Good idea.
Marty: [in disbelief that they just said something so stupid] Really?
[a zombie's axe crashes through a wall]
Curt: You guys, you guys, get in your rooms.

[Marty has a protesting expression as his friends run to different rooms. Cut to Hadley placidly eating popcorn]
Hadley: Lock 'em in.

Grocery Mom: [Hophead puts a comic book onto the check out counter, and the grocery mom puts the comic book in a bag] Would there be anything else, sir?
Hophead: [muffled] Yeah, empty the register and put the money in the bag.
Grocery Mom: Excuse me?
Hophead: [shouts] I said give me your money and all of it,

and don't fuck with me!
[Hophead takes out a machine gun from his coat]
Hophead: Now move! Open the safe, pops. Open the god-damn safe!
Grocery Pop: We-we don't have a safe.
Hophead: Shit!
[Hophead kicks the display of beer cans that hides a safe]
Hophead: There's your god-damn safe! Open

that son of a bitch! I'm gonna count to three and you'd better open that son of a bitch! Come on, come ON!
Hophead: [Points the gun at the mom's head] I'm gonna blow her brains out.
Grocery Pop: I'll open the safe.
Hophead: Good boy.
[the pop works on the safe]
Hophead: Come on! Well, you better

open that on the count of three. One. Two.
[RoboCop comes in]
Hophead: Fuck me!
RoboCop: Drop the gun. You are under arrest.
Hophead: [shouting while shooting at RoboCop] Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me!
[RoboCop bends the nose of Hophead's gun. Hophead tries to run away but RoboCop

tosses him into a freezer]
RoboCop: [turning to the grocery couple] Thank you for your co-operation. Good night.
Bixby Snyder: [From the TV] I'll buy that for a dollar!

Winston Churchill: Do I have your, uh, permission, uh, to send, uh, an aircraft carrier to pick up the P-40 fighter planes we purchased from you? Mr. President?
President Roosevelt: Well, you-you've got me there again. New law preventing transshipment of military equipment.
Winston Churchill: Uh, but we paid for them. We-we paid for

them with the money that we... that we borrowed from you.

[Kimble is searching the evacuated school for Crisp. Hearing something, he bursts in a door, pointing his gun]
Detective John Kimble: Freeze!
Kissing Boy: AAH!
[It turns out to be a teenage kid making out with his girlfriend - making it the second time Kimble's burst in on such a situation with his gun]
Detective John

Kimble: [extremely annoyed] Don't you know the building is on fire?
Kissing Boy: We-we thought it was just another drill.
Detective John Kimble: Well, get out!
Kissing Boy: Yes, sir!
[they run]