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Ron Burgundy: Boy, that escalated quickly. I mean that really got out of hand fast!
Brian Fantana: It jumped up a notch.
Ron Burgundy: It did, didn't it?
Brick Tamland: Yea, I stabbed a man in the heart.
Ron Burgundy: I saw that! Brick killed a guy. Did you throw a trident?
Brick Tamland: Yea, there were horses and a man on fire and I killed a guy with a trident.
Ron Burgundy: Brick, I've been meaning to talk to you about that. You should find yourself a safe house or a relative close by because you're probably wanted for murder.

Ron Burgundy: Brick, where did you get a hand grenade?
Brick Tamland: I don't know.

Brick Tamland: I love...carpet. I love...desk.
Ron Burgundy: Brick, are you just looking at things in the office and saying that you love them?
Brick Tamland: I love lamp.
Ron Burgundy: Do you really love the lamp, or are you just saying it because you saw it?
Brick Tamland: I love lamp. I love lamp.

Ron Burgundy: I'm gonna punch you in the ovary, that's what I'm gonna do. A straight shot. Right to the babymaker.

Champ Kind: Tell me about it, this morning, I woke up and I shit a squirrel, but what I can't get is the damn thing is still alive. So now, I've got a shit covered squirrel running around my office and I don't know what to name it.
Brick Tamland: O, I'm sorry champ, I think I ate your chocolate squirrel.

Veronica Corningstone: For the entire Channel 4 news team, I'm Veronica Corningstone.
Ron Burgundy: And I'm Ron Burgundy. Go fuck yourself, San Diego.

Brick Tamland: I'm Brick Tamland. People seem to like me because I am polite and I am rarely late. I like to eat ice cream and I really enjoy a nice pair of slacks. Years later, a doctor will tell me that I have an I.Q. Of 48 and am what some people call mentally retarded.

Ron Burgundy: Last time I looked in the dictionary, my name's Ron Burgundy. What's your name?
Brian Fantana: Brian Fantana.
Champ Kind: Champ Kind.
Brick Tamland: Brian Fantana.
Brian Fantana: No, you're Brick.
Brick Tamland: Brian.
Brian Fantana: I'm Brian.
Brick Tamland: Veronica.

Veronica Corningstone: Take me to Pleasure Town.
Ron Burgundy: Oh, we're going there.


Veronica Corningstone: I told you that I wanted to be an anchor...
Ron Burgundy: I thought you were kidding. I thought it was a joke. I even wrote it down in my diary - Veronica had a very funny joke today. I laughed about it later that night.

Veronica Corningstone: Oh Ron, there are literally thousands of other men that I should be with instead, but I am 72 percent sure that I love you.

Ron Burgundy: I love scotch. Scotchy, scotch, scotch. Here it goes down, down into my belly.

Ron Burgundy: [Talking to dog.] You're so wise. You're like a miniature Buddha, covered with hair.

Veronica Corningstone: My God, what is that smell? Oh!
Brian Fantana: That's the smell of desire, my lady.
Veronica Corningstone: God no, it smells like, like a used diaper, filled with Indian food! Oh, excuse me.
Brian Fantana: You know, desire smells like that to some people.
Garth Holliday: What is that? Smells like a turd covered in burnt hair.
News worker: Smells like Bigfoot's dick!

Brian Fantana: I think I was in love once.
Ron Burgundy: Really? What was her name?
Brian Fantana: I don't remember.
Ron Burgundy: That's not a good start, but keep going.
Brian Fantana: She was Brazilian, or Chinese, or something weird. I met her in the bathroom of a K-Mart and we made love for hours. Then we parted ways, never to see each other again.
Ron Burgundy: I'm pretty sure that's not love.
Brian Fantana: Damn it!

Ron Burgundy: I don't know how to put this but I'm kind of a big deal.
Veronica Corningstone: Really.
Ron Burgundy: People know me.
Veronica Corningstone: Well, I'm very happy for you.
Ron Burgundy: I'm very important. I have many leather-bound books and my apartment smells of rich mahogany.

Champ Kind: What's it like, Ron?
Ron Burgundy: The intimate times? Outta sight, my man.
Brian Fantana: No, the other thing - love.
Brick Tamland: Yeah, what is that?

Ron Burgundy: I'm in a glass case of emotion!

Frank Vitchard: I am gonna straight-up murder your ass.

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When Ron throws the burrito at the biker, you can see from the shot in the car that it falls to the ground. After it falls, the biker swivels for a while, and then slides down the street, however, in the shot of him once he stopped, the burrito was in front of him.



Before the cut to the restaurant scene in which all the newsroom ladies are dining and the suggestion is planted to play with the teleprompter, the name of the restaurant can be seen on a neon sign. Part of the sign, in Spanish, says "We spit in your food."


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