A loser finds success in the revenge-for-hire business.

Mitch: Hey, homeless guys!
[Three homeless guys leaning outside Travis Cole's building look up listlessly at him]
Mitch: I'll tell ya what. I'll give you a dollar each if you'll go into this building here and run around yellin' and screamin'.
Homeless Guy: Uh, that's very nice, but I think what you probably need are, like, some psycho, out-of-control homeless guys?
Martin: Yeah, we're more the broken, spiritless, I've-lost-the-will-to-live type homeless guys.
Mitch: How about for two dollars?
Dr. Farthing: I know there's really nobody to blame for this but myself, well, I don't know, maybe the Buffalo Bills, the Boston Red Sox, or Mr. T or, or the Jets...
Mitch: Wait a minute, Mr T.? Are you telling me that you bet on the fight in Rocky III, and that you bet against Rocky?
Dr. Farthing: Hindsight is twenty-twenty, my friend.
[first lines]
Derek: Hand over the milk money, Weaver.
Mitch: I'm afraid I can't do that, Derek. I'm just not sure you'll spend it on milk.
Bearded Lady: Hey, baby. You ever had a chick with a beard before?
Mitch: Can't say that I have there, bearded broad.
Bearded Lady: Well, then, sugar, you haven't lived.
Mitch: Note to self: I don't want to live.
[Mitch and Sam screen a movie called "Men in Black Who Like to Have Sex With Each Other" to get revenge against Mr. Hamilton]
Screen Voice #1: Look! An alien!
Screen Voice #2: Yeah. We'd better have sex with each other.
[Sam discreetly looks at the screen]
Mitch: Note to self: Sam just looked at the screen.
Sam: No, I didn't! I was just making sure that the reel had...!
Screen Voice #1: Hey! This alien looks just like a hot guy!
Screen Voice #2: You're right. We'd better have sex with him.
Frat Guy: [sarcastically] Hey, that was really funny, siccing the cops on us like that!
[Second frat guy behind him says, "Yeah!"]
Mitch: Really? I mean, don't get me wrong, *I* thought it was funny, but I'm surprised *you* guys did, because, uh, you got your asses kicked!
Mitch: Oh, and Dr. Farthing. He got over his gambling problem, but the bookies beat him to death anyway. So, he's dead. That's it. Bye!
Travis Cole: What are you doing? You're ruining Don Giovanni!
Mitch: Don Giovanni? Who's that dude?
Travis Cole: The opera! You're ruining the opera!
Mitch: Oh, the opera. Yes, yes, we are ruining that.
Kathy: You guys are brothers?
Mitch: Well, it's a long story...
Sam: My dad boned his mom.
Mitch: Okay, it's a short story.
Mitch: Okay, settle down, prostitutes. Now, understand that you each get twenty dollars, and this requires no sex, no sex at all, regardless of what this character tells you.
[motions to Sam]
Mitch: Ha ha! You didn't count on my loyal army of prostitutes, did you?
Jimmy: And there's the Saigon whore that bit my nose off!
Mitch: You fellas have a lot of growing up to do, I'll tell you that. Ridiculous. Completely ridiculous. Can you believe these characters? Way out of line. Way out of line. Have a good mind to go to the warden about this. You know what hurts the most is the... the lack of respect. You know? That's what hurts the most. Except for the... Except for the other thing. That hurts the most. But the lack of respect hurts the second most.
Mitch: I've never seen so many dead hookers in all my life!
Bystander: Lord knows I have.
Mitch: Sam, are you pissing off the side of the building?
Sam: Sorta.
Mitch: There's two kinds of people in this world: Those who get stomped on and those who do the stomping.
Kathy: Where'd you come up with that theory?
Mitch: That famous guy said it. What's his name? Uh... Oh, yeah: Jesus!
Mitch: Note to self: Making love to blow-up doll is not as good as advertised.
Mitch: Good news, Mr. McKenna!
Pops: All right, boys! Bring on the whore!
Mitch: No, it's not a whore - we're gonna get you the fifty thousand dollars for your heart transplant!
Pops: Well, that's good too.
[Shaking the trunk of the car containing the Saigon whore who bit off his nose]
Jimmy: WAKE UP SLUT! Well, well, well, we meet again... NOSE BITER! TIME TO PAY THE FIDDLER, WHORE!
Mr. Hamilton: So there you are, tubby. Look like a bucket of lard on a bad day. You baby gorilla. Why don't you work in a zoo, and stop bothering people? Got a call yesterday from Baskin Robbins. They said that they're down to only five flavors. You're swelling up as I talk to you.
Mike Anscombe: Looks like there's gonna be a brawl. You playin' something good?
Jimmy: Hell, yeah! Rolling Stones, Street Fighting Man! G-7!
Mike Anscombe: ...you just hit G-8.
[Jimmy looks shocked, as Escape, the Pina Colada Song, blasts from the jukebox]
Sam: Well, Mitch, looks like we got ourselves a fight, huh?
Mitch: Great, it's fightin' time! Can I be on their side?
Mitch: Dr. Farthing, what happened to your arm?
Dr. Farthing: Well, it was either from sleeping on it the wrong way or bookmakers throwing me out of a speeding car.
Mitch: Note to self: learn to fight.
Sam: Hey, doc, what happened to your foot?
Dr. Farthing: What I don't understand is... when you owe a bookie a lot of money, and he, say, blows off one of your toes, you still owe him the money. Doesn't seem fair to me. Especially when he's gonna kill me in four days anyway.
[Mitch's girlfriend, now ex-girlfriend, is throwing all of his belongings out on to the sidewalk. As he approaches their apartment, he notices that many strangers are wearing or are putting on his shirts. A bit later, he recognizes one of his shirts on a man walking down the street]
Mitch: Hey, that's my shirt; you're wearing my shirt!
[the man takes off his shirt, revealing an extremely hairy chest and back]
Mitch: [recoiling in horror] UGH!
Fat, Hairy Guy: Here ya go.
Mitch: No, no, no, I was talking to someone else... who is different... than you.
Kathy: So... Would you like to come in for some coffee?
Mitch: No no. Uh, I can't. I have to lift weights? What?
Sam: [to Travis Cole's goons] How about we kick every one of your asses, and then we go up and kick Cole's ass too?
[Scene changes to Sam stumbling out of the building and Mitch being thrown out]
Sam: [after Mitch has been thrown out of his apartment] I'm guessing by the looks of that popcorn machine she threw you out for good.
Sam: So, you mean to tell me that that sweet girl's grandmother runs a whorehouse out of the building we're about to destroy?
Mitch: Yeah, I feel awful doing this to Kathy.
Sam: Hey, uh, Mitch, you're really starting to like this Kathy, aren't ya?
Mitch: [with a huge, smirking grin] Nooooooo.
Sam: Mitch, I know you, man. When you say "no" like that, you really mean yes.
Mitch: What are ya talking about?
Sam: Watch, I'll show you. Mitch, uh, did you ever rob a bank?
Mitch: [definitely] No.
Sam: Did you ever climb Mount Everest?
Mitch: [more definitely] No.
Sam: Did you ever say that you can see why women find Sean Connery sexy?
Mitch: [with a huge, smirking grin] Nooooooo. - Okay, so I like Kathy a little bit. Man, I hate the fact that we have to destroy her grandmother's building.
[pause]
Mitch: But we have to.
Sam: Yep.
[They jump into the car]
Mitch: [after putting super glue on his butt to get revenge on a crossing guard who grabbed all the kids' asses] Look, everybody, look! Crossing guard has his hand on 8 year-old's ass over here! Look! Crossing guard has his hand on 8-year-old's ass over here!
Opera Critic: They're using skunks to heighten the atmosphere of squalor and despair! Brilliant!
Mitch: You know what prisoners do? In prison?
Homeless Guy: And then when you jumped on that security guard's back and you were yelling in his ear, "The CIA put a chip in my brain!" I was laughing so hard, I almost shit my pants.
Martin: [grinning] Almost!
[They do a high-five]
Pops: Let me take you to Vegas, baby! You know what they say, it ain't over till the fat lady checks into a cheap hotel with Pops.
[Kathy enters the Dirty Work headquarters, where Mitch is deep in thought]
Kathy: [flirtatiously] What havoc are you planning to wreak now?
Mitch: Kathy! What are you doing here?
Kathy: Um, actually I was looking for you. I saw how you and your friend saved that woman's house.
[giggles]
Kathy: Guess it turns out you can use your powers for good as well as evil.
Mitch: [Mitch, as narrator, reminiscing about getting even with a mean babysitter when he was a child] Looking at this picture still makes me horny. I mean wistful! It makes me wistful!
Mitch: Hey, Sam, movie line!
Sam: [Sam wriggles down his pants and pushes his arse against the open window to moon a line of movie-goers from the car] Whoo-hoooo! How ya like THAT!
[Mitch stops the car next to the curb and walks across the street, away from the car, leaving Sam mooning the crowd. Sam, humiliated, pulls his trousers back up and exits the car]
Sam: He was supposed to keep driving.
[Sam chases after Mitch]
[at Mazetti's bar]
Mitch: Yeah, well, things could be worse, you know. I could have got my nose bit off by a Saigon whore!
[Jimmy slowly turns to face the camera and blows smoke from his cigarette, exposing his scarred nose]
Jimmy: [shouts] You bastard!
Mitch: Hey, I'm just messin' with you, Jimmy. I saw you down there. Hey, Mazetti, get Jimmy a beer on me.
Jimmy: [laughs] Okay. It's all right.
Mitch: Are those prostitutes? I mean, who are those girls?
[from Mitch's brownie hallucination]
Satan: We eat the pig and then together we burn! Burn!
Gary Coleman: Whatchu talkin' 'bout, Satan?
Satan: Come with me! You belong with me! Burn! Burn! BURN!
Mitch: Note to self: Remember no matter how bad life gets, there is always beer!
Travis Cole: Mitch, Sam. What a pleasant surprise.
Sam: Yeah. Where's our money?
Travis Cole: [feigning confusion] What money?
Mitch: You owe us $50,000 for getting the building at 99 Franklin Street condemned. We want it now!
Travis Cole: But, Mitch, I don't even own the building at 99 Franklin. Well, I told you I did, but I lied. Good luck trying to prove it.
Sam: Son of a bitch!
Travis Cole: You see, once you stopped my bulldozer from leveling that old lady's house, I couldn't just let you get away with it. So I figured out a way for you to help me and hurt you at the same time. I guess I showed you guys a thing or two about dirty work.
Sam: Yeah, whatever, but we're not leaving here 'til we get our fifty grand.
Pops: You didn't tell him, did you?
Mitch: Oh, no, no.
Pops: Thanks.
Mitch: But look, I still want to, and I, I can't promise you that I won't.
[Pops reaches forward. Mitch remembers when Pops grabbed his groin in a blackmail maneuvre earlier and lunges for the floor with a yell]
Pops: I'm just getting my photo album! What are you so jumpy about?
Mitch: I don't know. Maybe it's your, your lifelong pattern of random assault.
Pops: Back then we didn't have these fancy birth control methods. Like pulling out.
Dr. Farthing: For six hundred dollars, I can sell you a perfectly good hospital bed.
Sam: Are you crazy? I don't need a bed!
Dr. Farthing: [Nods, and gives the famous Chevy Chase "ingratiating stare."] Playing hardball, are you? Okay, five fifty.
Mitch: Okay, Cole. Well, it's been nice doing business with you. Now you probably want to go home and kick back and enjoy a nice, tall, cold glass of chihuahua piss or something.
Pops: I'm in whore heaven!
Mitch: Sam, tonight we make a wad of cash for doing something that comes natural to us, you know? Revenge! I'm telling you, we should open a revenge-for-hire business.
Sam: I never heard of a revenge-for-hire business.
Mitch: Exactly - we'd be the first! With every genius business idea, there's gotta be a first. Like, like the guy who first thought of delivering pizza to people's houses. Or, uh, the guy who invented crack.
Sam: Who's gonna hire us?
Mitch: Oh, Sam, I have a feeling that people are gonna pay us a lot of money to do their dirty work.
Mitch: Well, at least I didn't get my nose bitten off by a Saigon whore!
[Sam and Mitch have learned that they are half-brothers]
Mitch: Hey, hey! Hey, you remember in 5th grade when I was under the monkey bars and I sneaked a peek at your sister's underwear? Remember that? Hey, no no! I was sneaking a peek at my *own* sister's underwear!
Sam: That's right! Yeah, and then remember in the 12th grade, you had sex with her?
Mitch: [short awkward silence] Okay, enough reminisicing.
Mitch: [after finding out Kathy works at a car dealership] Are you a dirty car salesman?
Kathy: No, I'm a dirty accountant.
Mitch: Note to self: remember to get ass wart cream for giant wart on my ass.
Mitch: Oh, my God! It's a picture of you and my mom! And you're having sex!
Jimmy: They say in the land of the blind, the man with one eye is king, well in the land of the skunk the man with half a nose is king!
Travis Cole: Gentlemen, if you're interested, I think I have a job for you.
[Cole has Mitch and Sam visit his office]
Travis Cole: Mitch, Sam, considering your recent exploits as professional mischief-makers, I think you may be able to help me.
[Sam looks interested. Mitch looks wary. Cole is gloating]