Douchebag wrote:
FRANK: What is this thing anyway?
MRS. ROSS: It's Cornish gamehen.
FRANK: What is that, like a little chicken?
GEORGE: It's, uh, it's not a little chicken. [laughing] Little chicken. It's a gamebird.
FRANK: Gamebird?
GEORGE: Yeah.
FRANK: What do you mean? Like, you - you hunt it?
MR. ROSS: Yes.
FRANK: How hard could it be to kill this thing?
ESTELLE: I couldn't help but notice that you have quite a library in there.
MRS. ROSS: If I had a dime for every book he's actually read, [laughing] I'd be broke.
SUSAN: More wine anyone?
FRANK: Yeah. I'll take some.
SUSAN: Hmmm?
FRANK: Thank you.
SUSAN: How do you like the Merlot?
ESTELLE: Merlot? I never heard of it. Did they just invent it?
MRS. ROSS: Oh, mother.
GEORGE: She's, uh, she's heard of Merlot.
FRANK: Let me understand, you got the hen, the chicken and the rooster. The rooster goes with the chicken. So, who's having sex with the hen?
GEORGE: Why don't we talk about it another time.
FRANK: But you see my point here? You only hear of a hen, a rooster and a chicken. Something's missing!
MRS. ROSS: Something's missing all right.
MR. ROSS: They're all chickens. The rooster has sex with all of them.
FRANK: That's perverse.
GEORGE: Did anybody see Firestorm?
MR. ROSS: Firestorm, that's a hell of a picture.
GEORGE: Yeah.
MR. ROSS: Remember when they had the helicopter land on top of that car --
FRANK: Hey! Hey! Come on! Come on! I haven't seen it yet!
MR. ROSS: It doesn't have anything to do with the plot!
FRANK: Still! Still! I like to go in fresh!
GEORGE: Oh mother of God.