Theres The Rub 2

Hendricks:It's an honor, Your Honor.

Will:Well, we can't say nothing happened, Uncle Phil. You know, there was a couple of butt-naked honeys scattered around that place.

Will:I guess you wasn't at the Million Man March, huh?

Vivian:Oh, girl, that boy couldn't keep up with me if I gave him a head start.

Vivian:Girl, that man wasn't looking at you, he was looking at me. Looking at me like it was lunchtime and my legs was Colonel Sanders' extra crispy.

Geoffrey:If you mean something fast and cheap, yes.

Skippy:Will you be my friend?

Will:Um... No.

Will:Uncle Phil, you might know your way around the mean streets of Bel-Air... but I think you better let me handle this brother on the phone, all right?

Tough prisoner:What's the big deal anyway? It wouldn't be the first time you broke somebody's legs. All right. I love you too, Mama.

Hilary:Maybe I don't come to places like this and do this kind of work as often as I could... but that's who I am, damn it. It doesn't make me a bad person.

Shelter resident:Honey, I live here.

Hilary:So the plates go in the back?

Will:I'm thinking that in a week when we look back on this, we are just gonna laugh. Maybe two weeks.

Will:Hey, it's a good thing, man... I thought we was gonna have to Bruce Lee you up in here, you know?

Skippy:A shot to the helmet? Oh...

Phil:How about you, Banks? About the same.

Hilary:Right, Mr. 'Hey, Big Guy... can I have a copy of your will in case something happens to you?'

Hilary:Yeah, if your last name's Menendez.

Carlton:See, you're a nag. That's exactly why you don't have a boyfriend.

Geoffrey:Well, maybe they pulled in, smelled your stuffing and turned back around.

Vivian:Shut up, Ashley.

Will:There's a bug on mine.

Will:Stuck in a jail cell with some angry 400-pound man whose life you wrecked.

Skippy:And thank you so much for sharing it with me.

Will:I'm about to dig in to this cream-of-bug sandwich.

Will:Big gorgeous roasted turkey... four different kinds of stuffing. Candied yams, and macaroni and cheese, mashed potatoes... And little tiny onions swimming in a sea of cream sauce.

Will:And we want $10,000 in unmarked bills... and a helicopter on the roof gassed up and ready to take us to Tijuana. Oh, sorry. I just kind of got caught up in the moment.

Prisoner:Grape jelly? You can't make these with no damn grape jelly.

Carlton:A turkey? Hardly. In point of fact, it's a Cornish game hen. A flightless bird hale from the Isle of Wight. Braised in cognac with a hint of fennel. A fitting end for a noble fowl.

Shelter resident:You're kind of weird. So you want one or not?

Hilary:I exploit people every day of the week on my show. It's Thanksgiving, I'm gonna take the day off.

Hilary:For the first time in my life, I thought about others instead of myself. Ooh. I'm tingling all over.

Skippy:Yeah. Just tell your boy he'd better be at the next march.

Phil:When you have a chronic back problem and you go for a therapeutic massage... and wind up in a house of ill-repute, which is subsequently raided... and you are arrested by mistake... never tell your wife. Hmm? Poof.

Hilary:Of course, I stepped out of the way so they couldn't actually touch me... but I really connected.

Phil:Thank you for keeping us safe and delivering us from... Tiny. Tiny, as well as larger temptations.

Uncle Phil:Thank you for our health. Thank you for this food. But most of all, thank you for keeping us safe and delivering us from... Tiny. Tiny, as well as larger temptations.

Hilary:A-woman.

Phil:Everything was exactly as delicious as everything else.

Vivian:I guess it was kind of fun when Vy dropped that bag of powdered sugar all over Helen.

Hilary:Yeah, talk about being led around by your apron strings.

Vivian:Yeah, yeah, yeah. Listen, I love y'all too... but the bottom line is my stuffing was the best. Any fool can see that. You tasted it. You tasted it with your own mouth.