Itchy Itchiford: Charlie, let me think about this.
Charlie: No! Don't think! From now on, I'll do the thinking.
Charlie: That Carface has something up his sleeve.
Itchy Itchiford: Yeah, a gun.
Charlie: And when I find out what it is, I'm going to ruin him.
Itchy Itchiford: In him there's the luck of the Irish.
Charlie: The pride of the German.
Itchy Itchiford: Even, he-he, a bit of Siam.
Charlie: Siam? There's the calm of the English.
Itchy Itchiford: The charm of the Spanish.
Charlie: A pedigree certainly ain't what I am. So call me a mixed-up pup.
Itchy Itchiford: You're a mixed-up pup.
Charlie: But the only way this pup knows is up.
Don Canneloni: And now, the Rigatonis, the Tortellinis, the Fettuchinis, and even the Raviolis are bigger than we are. And why?
Tony: High interest rates.
Sonny: Acid rain.
Slim: Japanese imports.
Caesar: Uh... uh... none of the above.
Don Canneloni: No. No. No. Youse mugs already know the answer.
Caesar: Gee, boss, if I knew there was gonna be a test, I would've studied.
The Looking Glass: Snow White approaches a trap set by Lord Malice. But in the fog she isn't gonna find the palace! Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha.
Lord Malice: You are insolent! But you have a point.
Jeremy: Well, uh, let me explain! Oh, what a lovely hat you're wearing.
Auntie Shrew: Don't you sweet-talk me.
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