Crystal: Do not fuck with me you sick, masturbating retard.
Walter: Go ahead and rape me, that's what you want.
Russ: What about the puffer?
Crystal: Yeah, well at first I couldn't find it, and when we found it... it was all out of you know... shit... the... um.
Crystal: Yeah that's it. Do you know what his last words were?
Russ: Come on, don't do this.
Crystal: Krystal, my sweet angel. Go into my wallet and get the ticket because you and Russ deserve to have that money.
Russ: Oh, come on... don't do this to me.
Crystal: Fuck me, no fried clams?
Crystal: All right... key lime pie.
Walter: Do you masturbate, Russ?
Russ: Jeez, I've been so busy lately I barely polish my shoes.
Russ: As our Jewish friends say: "Enjoy."
Dale: Unfortunately Russell we have a new wrinkle in the situation.
Russ: Oh really? What's the wrinkle?
Dale: Basically I had to play pinata with Jerry the bookie's skull. See, that sort of ups the invoice a little.
Russ: Is he okay?
Dale: No, he's dead.
Russ: Oh! Oh, God.
Larry: Remember I told you about my brother's car, the one that got in a wreck?
Russ: For the sake of expediency, I am going to say yes.