Ross Rhea: Kid, you got this thing. The stuff. The shit. The fuckin' grit, you got it, like me. But like me, that's all you fuckin' got. And like me, you're no good to anyone doing anything else. All I'm saying is don't go trying to be a hockey player. You'll get your fuckin' heart ripped out.
Doug Glatt: Hey! What the hell?
Doug Glatt: Of course I recognize you.
Ryan: You recognize this big fuckin' beautiful family of yours?
Doug Glatt: Oh my god, this is amazing, I'm so happy.
Ronnie Hortense: Glatt! What the fuck are you doing mother fucker? Start skating, chase some ice.
Ross Rhea: You have my respect. Whatever that means to you, you got it. But, know this shit hard. If ever there comes a time when it gets down to the marrow, and it's you and me. Kid, I will lay you the fuck out.
Doug Glatt: Where is LaFlamme?
Gord Ogilvey: Probably giving some single mother herpes out in the parking lot.
Rollie Hortense: It's just too bad those are your teammates that you fucked up out there.
Doug Glatt: Oh, I'm sorry sir.
Rollie Hortense: Of course, on the bright side, those are your teammates that you fucked up out there. What do you say son, you wanna be an Assassin?
Doug Glatt: Yes, yes.
Rollie Hortense: What number you wanna wear?
Ryan: 69! Take the number 69, It's hilarious.
Doug Glatt: Is that number taken?
Doug Glatt: I'm here to do whatever they need me to do. You know, if they need me to bleed, then I'll bleed for my team.
Ross Rhea: So Huntsie I was wondering. How long does it take you to get your hair like that?
Huntington: About four hours.
Ross Rhea: It's nice. Somebody thinks you look like Stevie Wonder on steroids, but I like it.
Huntington: Fuck you.
Ross Rhea: Ooh! Look at that face pussy that rookie gave you. Come on.
Ryan: Ladies and gentlemen, this is actually fucking happening. Dougie "The Thug" Glatt is about to fucking drop the gloves and take on Ross "The Boss" Rhea. This has all the elements of a fucking sports masterpiece. Holy fuck! We've got the worried lady friend's face frozen with concern. We got the gay brother. Yup! And the loveable, wisecracking best friend. Orangetown, son! Pussy crew, album dropping. Oh fuck, here we go.
Eva: I did it. I broke up with him.
Doug Glatt: Holy shit.
Eva: I don't even know what the fuck I'm.
Doug Glatt: Hey, come on. From what I saw from him he seemed like a really nice guy.
Eva: I'm just not in love with him.
Doug Glatt: You're not?
Eva: No. You. You make me want to stop sleeping with a bunch of guys.
Doug Glatt: That's the nicest thing anybody's ever said to me.
Oldfield: Hey Glatt, you little fuckin' dick weed. You try any of that shit you did against Hamilton on me, I'll light your fuckin' ass up.
Doug Glatt: Hey! I'll light your ass... back up... on fire.
Doug Glatt: I think we both have a light in our stomachs. A special light. Like ET. And the team needs somebody to light the way. My stomach light needs your stomach light. We can all phone home together.