Skip Donahue: We tried to teach him charades! He didn't get it! He just didn't get it.
Harry Monroe: Yea, that's right! That's right! We bad.
Rory: That's Grossberger. The biggest mass murderer in the history of the southwest? My dear, he killed his entire family and all of his relatives in one weekend and then he killed some more people that reminded him of his family.
Harry Monroe: A hundred and twenty five years... Oh God, Oh God... I'll be a hundred and sixty one when I get out.
Skip Donahue: What are you doing?
Harry Monroe: I'm gettin bad. You better get bad, Jack cause if you ain't bad you're gonna get fucked.
Skip Donahue: This filthy, roach-ridden reality is inspiring... what did that second policeman say to you when he grabbed you by the throat?
Harry Monroe: Man, I don't fucking believe you.
Skip Donahue: "Man, I don't fucking believe you!" Fabulous.
Harry Monroe: You don't get it do you, Skip. You think this is The Count Of Monte Cristo or something. We're in deep trouble. This is the real deal. We're in deep shit.
Chosen answer: Because his employers discovered he had put grass (marijuana) in the salad and got all the dinner guests high. Well, he didn't, the cook did. But he brought it into the house so he was fired.