Driver: What's your problem, schmuck?
Fletcher: I'm an inconsiderate prick!
Cop: Do you know why I pulled you over?
Fletcher Reede: It depends on how long you were following me!
Cop: Why don't we just start from the top?
Fletcher Reede: Here it goes. I sped, I followed too closely, I ran a stop sign, I almost hit a Chevy, I sped some more, I failed to yield at a crosswalk, I changed lanes at an intersection, I changed lanes without signaling while running a red light and SPEEDING!
Cop: Is that all?
Fletcher Reede: [Forced.] No. I have unpaid parking tickets.
Judge Stevens: Are we ready to begin?
Dana: We are ready, your honor.
Fletcher: No, your honor. We are not ready to begin because my client has not arrived.
[The courtroom doors open and Samantha walks in with her children and nanny.]
Samantha: You keep those kids quiet, Lupe. I am not even close to kidding.
Fletcher: [Singing] Here she comes to wreck the day!
Judge Stevens: Mr. Reede!
Fletcher: Sorry, your honor.
Coworker: Hey, Fletcher, how's it hanging?
Fletcher: Short, shriveled and always to the left.
[Fletcher is beating himself up in the bathroom when a man walks in.]
Man: What the hell are you doing?
Fletcher Reede: I'm kicking my ass. Do you mind?
Fletcher Reede: New in the building?
Woman in elevator: Yes. I just moved in Monday.
Fletcher Reede: Oh. Do you like it so far?
Woman in elevator: Oh yes. Everyone's been real nice to me.
Fletcher Reede: Well, that's because you have big jugs.
[Both the woman and Fletcher are totally shocked at what he just said.]
Fletcher Reede: I mean your boobs are huge. I mean I want to squeeze them.
[Still aghast at what he's saying.]
Fletcher Reede: Mama.
Homeless Drunk: Do you have any spare change mister?
Fletcher Reede: Yes, I do.
Homeless Drunk: Well, can I have some?
Fletcher Reede: No!
Homeless Drunk: Why not?
Fletcher Reede: Because I believe you will buy booze with it. I just want to get from my car to my office without being confronted by the decay of Western society. Plus, I'm cheap!
Fletcher: You scratched my car.
Impound Attendant: Where?
Fletcher: [shows scratch.] Right there.
Impound Attendant: Oh, that? That was already there.
Fletcher: You LIAR. Do you know what I'm going to do about this?
Impound Attendant: What?
Fletcher: Nothing. Because if I take you to small claims court it'll just drain eight hours out of my life and even if I got the judgment you'd probably stiff me anyway. So what I'm gonna do is piss and moan like an impotent jerk and then BEND OVER AND TAKE IT UP THE TAIL PIPE.
Impound Attendant: You've been here before haven't you?
Pete: Hey, what's up, Fletcher?
Fletcher: Your cholesterol, fatty.
Greta: Mr. Reede, several years ago a friend of mine had a burglar on her roof, a burglar. He fell through the kitchen skylight, landed on a cutting board, on a butcher's knife, cutting his leg. The burglar sued my friend, he sued my friend. And because of guys like you *he won*. My friend had to pay the burglar $6,000. Is that justice?
Fletcher: No! I'd have got him ten.
Jane: Do you like my new dress?
Fletcher: What ever takes the focus off your head!