Clerks II

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Clerks II is a 2006 film directed by Kevin Smith, and is the sequel to the 1994 film Clerks.

Randal Graves[edit]

  • One semester we took Criminology, for Christ's sake! Criminology! Who the fuck were we studying to be: Batman?
  • So that's the way you see all this time we've spent together? That's weird, man. I thought you were the only guy in the world who got me and had my back, the only person who'd take a bullet for me, 'cause I assumed you felt the same way about me the same way I feel about you. Then all of the sudden one day you're like, "I'm movin'. Bye." Do you know what that's been like for me? I'm lookin' at a future that just sucks cause you aren't gonna be in it anymore. And you're not even throwin' me over for a life that means something to you. It's just a stupid, hollow existence you think you should embrace because you're getting old or something, because it's the life everyone else goes after. You're a fucking drone, dude.
  • Man, you must love this fucking guy, 'cause he's the biggest pussy I ever met, the dude who lives his life according to everyone else's standards. "I have to go down to Florida and get married because that what's expected of me." And the fucking insane part is, he ain't even crazy about the chick he's marrying or Florida, never mind the fact that he's got a perfectly good chick right here in Jersey who he's nuts about and even Anne-fucking-Frank can see that she's nuts about him—God knows why. And she likes you for who you are, man. She ain't trying to stuff you into a box you'll never fit into, not to mention that she's carrying your hideous fucking C.H.U.D. of a kid. Jesus, if you had any sense whatsoever, you'd fucking stop trying to bray it up with the rest of the sheep and live your life the way it makes sense to you, you fucking ass.
  • What's the point of having an Internet connection if you're not using it to look at weird, fucked-up pictures of dirty sex you'll never have yourself?
  • All right look, there's only one "Return", OK, and it ain't of the King.  It's of the Jedi.
  • You're my best friend and I love you, in a totally heterosexual way. Please don't leave me.
  • Who would be friends with me? I hate everyone and everything seems stupid to me.

Dante Hicks[edit]

  • You never go ass to mouth!
  • What'd you do that for?! You realise he just thinks you're trying to get him into a three-way with us now, don't you?


  • You know, sometimes I wish I did a little more with my life instead of hangin' out in front of places sellin' weed 'n shit. Like, maybe be an animal doctor. Why not me? I like seals 'n shit. Or maybe an astronaut. Yeah... I'd be the first motherfucker to see a new galaxy, or find a new alien life form... and fuck it. And people'd be, like, "There he goes; homeboy fucked a Martian once."
  • [from an alternate introduction to the characters] Ooh, I fucking hate sobriety, tubby! Everything's so crisp and loud now, and boring. It's boring, son! It's boring! Well, you could do more to help that, you know. This whole 'not talking' shit's getting old. It didn't matter when I was high, 'cause I'd just imagine you were talking in my head, like The Shining and shit, son. Like The Shining and shit. 'Jay's not here right now, Missus Torrance. Silent Bob's the man who lives inside my mouth'...eww, you fucking faggot, I bet you'd love to live in my mouth." [Silent Bob rolls his eyes] "Well, you had your chance. Back when I was high, you might have had a chance to slip your chubby little cock in me without me noticing, but that shit's NEVER gonna happen now that I'm all dry and your mom's puss. [pause] That is, unless you got a joint? [Silent Bob shoots him a look of shock and surprise] Ooh! Ooh, Motherfucker! You're SO fucking lucky! See, I was just testing you. You're lucky you passed, or I'd have to get rid of you as my sponsor. And then you'd cry like a little BITCH!
  • That guy's being awfully forward with that donkey.


  • What's sexier than an elf princess's sword?
  • I hope that donkey doesn't have a hiney troll.
  • At Bible Camp, we made a flow chart. Since God created man, and man created the Transformers, the Transformers are like a gift from God, Randal!


  • I'm telling you this only because I'm your friend... Sometimes, in the heat of the moment, it's forgivable to go ass to mouth.
  • [after walking on the donkey show] I'm disgusted, I'm repulsed... And I can't look away.


Elias: I've turned down chicks left and right!
Randal: Your chicks are your left and right.

Randal: Dude, The Transformers sucked.
Elias: Oh, no they didn't. They were more than meets the eye. They could beat the pants off Ranger Danger any day.
Randal: Yeah, I'll lose sleep wondering whether you're right about that or not. Thought you weren't allowed to watch a lot of TV in your house 'cause you're all Christian and shit.
Elias: Well, as it turns out, cars and trucks that turn into robots aren't really that blasphemous because my pastor says that machines can turn into other machines and it's not a slight against God.
Randal: Dude, the Transformers were a total slight against God, in as much as God sent His only begotten Son to die on the cross to redeem mankind and all we did to pay Him back was make terrible fucking cartoons like the Transformers.
Elias: (pause) Nice shot. Well, see... At Bible Camp, we made a flow chart. Since God created man, and man created the Transformers, the Transformers are like a gift from God, Randal!
Randal: No sir. They are not a gift from God. They are an unholy curse from the beast we call the Desolate One. (voice deepens, walks slowly towards Elias)
Elias: I really don't wanna hear this, Randal. (reaches for head phones trying to ignore Randal)
Randal: The first of the fallen. The spoiler of virgins. The MASTER of abortions!.
Elias: You know I don't like to talk about dark forces, Randal! (puts on the head phones)
Randal: (grabbing drive-thru microphone and singing) Let me help you out of your chair, Grandma! Grandma!
Jay: (shows up in window) Grandma what was it like?! To be on that holiday site!
Randal: Late that night--
Jay: I awoke from my sleep! Hearing!
Jay & Randal: Unknown! Voices! Laughing insane! (Pushing Elias back and forth between Randal and Jay)

Elias: Randal. One ring to rule them all.
Randal: And you wonder why no chick'll let you stick your cock in her.
Elias: I never wondered that.
Randal: Yeah, 'cause you've accepted the fact that you'll never get a chick a long time ago.
Elias: I could get a chick if I wanted.
Randal: [Laughs] Who are you kidding? You can't get a chick, you mook. You're too weird and sad.
Elias: I turn down chicks left and right.
Randal: Your chicks are your "left" and "right." Yeah, right.
Elias: What do you know?
Randal: Uh, I know you're a huge fuck' nerd of Potsie-like proportions, and no chicks dig nerds, especially nerds that are into Lord of the Rings.
Elias: [Laughs quietly] Chicks dig Lord of the Rings, Randal.
Randal: Yeah. The kind of chicks that are into swords and elves and shit, and I wouldn't fuck them with the Torch of Gondor.
Elias: Oh, you're so gross!
[A customer approaches Elias at the counter]
Hobbit Fan: Hey, man.
[Elias changes hats before taking the customer's order]
Elias: Welcome to Mooby's. May I take your order?
Hobbit Fan: Yeah, um... see... give me one Udderly Delicious Moolkshake, a Skinny Calf, and an order of onion rings. Thanks.
[Elias keys in the order]
Elias: One ring to rule them all.
[Surprised look on the customer's face]
Hobbit Fan: One ring to find them.
Randal: Oh, Jesus.
[Elias pulls out his ring hanging on his necklace]
Elias: One ring to bring them all.
Hobbit Fan: And in the darkness, bind them.
[Customer pulls out his ring from his pocket]
Elias: Yes!
Hobbit Fan: Dude!
[Exchanges high-five with customer]
Elias: How many times?
Hobbit Fan: Well, um, three for Fellowship, two for Towers, four for Return.
Elias: Five for Return.
[Randal walks by them]
Randal: All right, look... There's only one Return, OK? And it ain't of the King, it's of the Jedi.
Hobbit Fan: Oh... Star Wars geek.
Randal: Oh, I'm the geek? Look at you two whipping out your "preciouses".
Elias: You'll have to excuse him. He's not down with the trilogy.
Randal: Oh, what the fuck happened to this world? There's only one trilogy, you fucking morons.
Hobbit fan: You know what? Maybe we should start calling your friend "Padme", because he loves Mannequin Skywalker so much, right? Hey - [impersonating a robot] Danger! Danger! My name is Anakin! My shitty acting is ruining saga!
Elias: Yeah, you're crazy, Jar Jar!
Randal: I'm crazy? Those fucking Hobbit movies were boring as hell. All it was was a bunch of people walking. Three movies of people walking through a fucking volcano. Here's the first movie...
[Randal jumps off the counter and walks slowly with his mouth open before walking back to the counter]
Randal: And here's the second movie...
[Randal does the same walk, except that midway, he sidesteps to the left and looks down before walking back to the counter]
Hobbit Fan: He is way off. Loser.
Randal: You ready for the third movie?
[Randal does the same walk, but stops, looks down, pretends to pull a ring from his finger and drops it as two other customers watch him while eating]
Customer A: Fucking A.
Randal: Even the fucking trees walked in those movies.
Hobbit Fan: You know what? I've had enough of you. Your simplistic analysis of the trilogy aside, The Lord of the Rings was a massive achievement. And even the Academy recognized them that they gave Peter Jackson the Best Directing Oscar - an award your little friend George "Toy Boy" Lucas has never--and will never--win. Bones.
[Exchanges fist salute with Elias]
Elias: Oh, sick burn.
Randal: Let me tell you something. If Peter Jackson really wanted to blow me away with those Rings movies, he would've ended the third one on a logical closure point. Not the 25 endings that followed.
Elias: What's the logical closure point?
Hobbit Fan: Yeah, friend. Enlighten us.
Randal: When fucking Frodo wakes up from his little coma or whatever and the little Hobbits are jumping up and down on his bed. And Sam leans in the doorway and gives him that very fucking gay look.
Elias: Not the Rings Randal. Say what you will about Jesus, but leave the Rings out of this.
Hobbit Fan: I ought to kick your ass back to the shire if you don't shut your fucking mouth.
Randal: That look was so gay, I thought Sam was gonna tell the little hobbits to take a walk, so he could saunter over to Frodo and suck his fucking cock. Now that would've been an Academy Award-worthy ending.
Hobbit Fan: Hey! Faggot! They're not gay! They're Hobbits.
Randal: And then right after the Sam/Frodo suck-fest, right before the credits roll, Sam fucking flat-out bricks in Frodo's mouth.
Hobbit Fan: I swear... Fuck you...!
[Hobbit fan suddenly vomits. Randal runs to the manager's office, laughing.]
Randal: I made fun of The Lord of the Rings so hard, it made some super geek puke all over the counter. Where do we keep the mop and bucket so I can have Elias clean it up?

Dante: Well, I don't know about this, Randal. I mean, how do we know this isn't a hoax? Like, were there any pictures on the Web site?
Randal: Strangely, no. But if you've seen pics of one chick sucking off a donkey, you've seen them all.
Dante: Well, what if you haven't ever seen pics of anything like that?
Randal: Well, then you must be as blind as Anne Frank. 'Cause what's the point in having an Internet connection if you're not using it to look at weird, fucked-up pictures of dirty sex you'll never have yourself?
[Elias steps out of his mother's vehicle, kisses her on the lips and enters the restaurant]
Randal: Holy shit. You know, I've never pieced this together until right now. You're a virgin, aren't you?
Elias: You know I have a girlfriend, Randal.
Randal: Oh, yeah. What's her name again?
Elias: Myra Hodgkiss.
Randal: You made her up, didn't you? That name sounds so made-up.
Elias: No.
Randal: Seriously, Elias, have you and Myra had sex yet?
Elias: Well, that's just kind of personal, Randal.
Randal: Come on! I tell you about my sex life all the time. I let you smell my fingers after I fucked Taton Weathers' kid sister in the office that one time, didn't I?
Elias: You kind of made me smell your fingers.
Randal: Maybe you just don't like the pussy. Maybe you're all about the cock.
Elias: No, no, I like the pussy.
Randal: So come on. Did Myra ever give you a crack at her crack or what?
Elias: Well, not that it's any of your business, Randal, but she can't.
Randal: Why? Jesus, Elias, come on. You got to start trusting me more. Because once Dante's gone, you're gonna be my new best friend.
Elias: No, I'm not.
Randal: Who the fuck else am I gonna hang out with? It's gonna be you and me, buddy. So come on. You got to start trusting me more. Open up and tell me shit. Like why haven't you fucked Myra yet?
Elias: [Sighs] Well, we can't because of Pillow Pants.
Randal: What the fuck's Pillow Pants?
Elias: Pillow Pants is a little troll who lives in her pussy. Pillow Pants is her pussy troll. Duh. You know how every girl's parents put a pussy troll in them when the girls are young to keep them from having premarital sex?
Randal: Sure.
Elias: Well, Myra's is named Pillow Pants. And so, even though she totally wants to have sex with me, Myra says if I put my thing in her, Pillow Pants will bite it off. So I got to wait until Pillow Pants gets peed out of her body on her 21st birthday before we can have sex.
Randal: And Myra told you this?
Elias: Boyfriends and girlfriends talk to each other about sex stuff, Randal. You'd know this if you ever had a girlfriend.
Randal: Have you and Myra even kissed yet?
Elias: We would have already, if it wasn't for Lister Fiend.
Randal: Lister Fiend is her mouth troll, isn't it?
Elias: Women.
Randal: I'll be right back.
Randal: You are never gonna believe what Elias just told me.
Dante: Look who it is, Randal.
Lance: Randal Graves. You work here, too? Jesus. Anyone else from our graduating class back there?
Randal: Well, well, well... Pickle Fuck.
Lance: Man, look at you two fun-ployees. Nothing's changed. You know, I'll bet dollars to donuts, when you two aren't fighting about who shit first, Han or Greedo, you can still muster up enough energy to make fun of other people.
Randal: Yeah. So hurry up and order and get out of here, so we can make fun of you.
Lance: Oh, I don't know if you're in a position to make fun of anyone anymore, Graves. flipping burgers? Before that, I'd heard it was the Quick Stop for, what, like, ten years?
Randal: We can't all be Internet millionaires.
Elias: Who's an Internet millionaire?
Randal: Elias, this is Lance Dowds. We went to high school together. A few years ago, he built a search engine which compiles the lowest prices of merchandise you can buy online. You might have heard of it...
Elias: Didn't that just sell to Amazon for, like, 20 million bucks?
Randal: Yeah, but back before he was the Mad Ducketts guy, he was just Pickle fuck. You see, freshman year, the seniors would hunt us down and put us through what they called initiations. They'd stuff us into lockers or throw us in the girls' shower room naked. But Lance here got the worst of it. The seniors yanked down his pants, and shoved a pickle up his ass, and made him walk ten feet. The pickle fell out before he hit the ten-foot mark. He had to take a bite of it, reinsert it and walk again.
Elias: Ew...
Randal: Yeah, but don't worry... he made it. His pickle was small enough to stay wedged after only four bites.
Lance: I'll bet you're the only guy in the world who still remembers that, Graves.
Randal: Oh, I bet you still remember it pretty vividly... Pickle fucker.
Elias: Do you have any interest in building the ultimate fan site for both The Lord of the Rings and The Transformers? Because I'd moderate it for free.
Randal: Ease up, Pillow Pants. The dude's not into your D&D, GoBots bullshit.
Lance: Whoa, whoa, whoa. Don't insult the guy. The GoBots are like the Kmart of Transformers.
Elias: Thank you! I keep telling them that.
Lance: Here, here's my e-mail address. Drop me a line with some of your ideas.
Elias: Cool.
Lance: Okay, let's see. What do I want? Uh... how about a Skinny Calf with cheese and a Diet Coke?
Randal: I'll get your order. Here you go.
Lance: Well, that was fast.
Randal: And fresh.
Lance: Thanks.
Randal: Come again.
Jay-Jay: Yo, let's wrap this up so I can get my Cow Tipper on.
Lance: You know what? Take mine. Something tells me I'm not gonna like it, am I?
Jay-Jay: Wow, thanks, Pickle fucker. Yo, so Pickle fuck gave us free eats!
Lance: You know, I don't eat fast food. It's not good for you. But when I heard you guys were actually working here, well, I just had to see it for myself. It's kind of nice having that kind of free time. Just like it's kind of comforting to know that some things never change. Take care, clerks. [Imitates guns] Ooh, sick burn. [Chuckles and leaves]
Randal: Fuck this. Let me borrow your car.
Dante: You're supposed to be working.
Randal: I got to get out of here for a few minutes.

Elias: [Removing a smoking black basket of fries] I don't think these look right.
Randal Graves: Jesus! Step away from the fryer before you burn us all alive!
Elias: It's not my fault you abandoned your post!
Randal Graves: Was it too much to ask that you handle the fries? The machine does all the work! What, does a machine gotta transform into some giant fuckin' robot before you'll take it seriously?

[Dante and Randal are arguing about a wheelchair-bound person Randal is trolling online]
Dante Hicks: This guy found a way to reach out to a world he feels isolated from, and you found a way to take issue with it.
Randal Graves: Oh, sure, take his side.
Dante Hicks: Have you become so embittered that you feel the need to attack the handicapped?
Randal Graves: What "handicapped"? He's just in a wheelchair. It's not like he's Anne Frank or something.
Dante Hicks: [confused] Anne Frank?
Randal Graves: Yeah, Anne Frank. The chick who was all [idiot voice] "duhhh!" until the Miracle Worker showed up and knocked some smarts into her.
Dante Hicks: You're talking about Helen Keller.
Randal Graves: No, I'm not. I'm talking about Anne Frank. She was deaf, dumb, and blind.
Dante Hicks: No, she wasn't! Helen Keller was deaf, dumb, and blind.
Randal Graves: Are you sure?
Dante Hicks: Yep.
Randal Graves: Then who the fuck is Anne Frank?
Dante Hicks: Anne Frank was the little Jewish girl who hid from the Nazis in a little room with her family. She wrote a diary.
Randal Graves: Oh, yeah. Well then, I guess this guy is like Anne Frank, what with the diary and all.
Dante Hicks: [exasperated] No, he's like Helen Keller, with the handicap!
Randal Graves: You alway gotta be right, don't you, you Nazi douchebag?

Randal: You're in the bestiality business, dude.
Sexy Stud: Hey, Fucko! We like to call it inter-species erotica.
Randal: Intriguing.

Randal: I don't mind people snickering at the stupid uniform I've got to wear. But I'll be damned if I'm gonna let some self-righteous, lucky turd come in here and treat me and Dante like we're a couple of fucking porch monkeys.
Dante: Randal! Uh, I'm-I'm sorry.
Black female patron: He... He didn't really just say what I think he said.
Randal: What? Porch monkeys?
Dante: Randal!
Becky: What the fuck is wrong with you?!
Black female patron: I want my money back right now.
Becky: Of course. Um, you know what? Here, take this on us.
Black female patron: Oh, no, no, no. I'm not eating something that was cooked by some cracker-ass hate-monger.
Black female patron's husband: I will. Baby, you can't taste racism.
Randal: What racism? Porch monkeys?!
Black female patron: You little mother...
Black female patron's husband: Calm down, champ. It ain't worth it.
Black female patron: You're lucky my husband doesn't jump across this counter and knock your teeth in.
Randal: Why?
Black female patron's husband: Yeah, baby, why? I mean, ain't like he called us porch monkeys. [Wife starts slapping him] Hey, hey! Baby, stop hitting on me! See, the judge told you about that. You got to stop putting your hands on people.
Becky: Here, take this. This is your money. Please, take the food on us. We're sorry.
Black female patron: Oh, uh-uh. I'm gonna write to the paper about this, and all y'all getting fired up in here. Jesus!
Black female patron's husband: I'm gonna take the food. Thank you very much. [Wife throws it on ground] Damn! Fuck' porch monkey...
Becky: Thanks. Come again.
Black female patron's husband: Don't leave me, baby!
Becky: Are you out of your fucking mind?!
Randal: What?! What's the big deal? Since when is it a crime to say porch monkey?
Becky: Oh, since, I don't know, forever?!
Randal: Why?
Dante: Because porch monkey is a racial slur against black people!
Randal: No, it's not—nigger is.
Dante: [Horrified] Randal!
Elias: Did Mr. Randal just call Mr. Dante a nigger?
Becky: Shut up, Elias!
Randal: I didn't just call Dante a nigger, I just said that nigger is a racial slur.
Dante: So is porch monkey!
Randal: Oh, it is not! Coon, spook, spade, moolie, jigaboo, nig-nogthose are racial slurs. Porch monkey is not.
Becky: I'm going to pretend that this conversation didn't happen. Elias, go pick up that fucking mess. [points at Randal] And you are this close to getting shit-canned! Shoot me now! [storms off]
Dante: What are you doing? Are you trying to get fired?
Randal: Since when did porch monkey become a racial slur?
Dante: When ignorant racists started using it 100 years ago!
Randal: Oh, bullshit. My grandmother used to call me a porch monkey all the time when I was a kid because I'd sit on the porch and stare at my neighbors.
Dante: Despite the fact that your grandmother used it as a term of endearment for you, it's still a racial slur. It would be like your grandmother calling you a little kike.
Randal: Oh, it is not. Besides, my grandmother had nothing but the utmost respect for the Jewish community. She used to tell me to always be nice to the Jewish kids, or they'd put the sheenie curse on me.
Randal: What?
Dante: Sheenie is a racial slur, too!
Randal: Oh, it is not!
Dante: Yes, it is!
Randal: Well, she never called any Jews sheenies, she just said "sheenie curse" a lot. It was cute.
Dante: It wasn't cute, it was racist!
Randal: I disagree, man. She was just an old-timer. That's the way people talked back then. It didn't mean they were racists. [thinks for a moment] But my grandmother did refer to a broken beer bottle once as a nigger knife.
[Dante is flabbergasted]
Randal: You know, come to think of it, my grandmother was kind of a racist.
Dante: You think?!
Randal: Well, I still don't think that porch monkey should be considered a racial term. I've always used it to describe lazy people, not lazy black people. I think if we really tried, we could take back porch monkey and save it.
Dante: [fed up] It can't be saved, Randal. The sole purpose for its creation, the only reason it exists in the first place, is to disparage an entire race. And even if it could be saved, you couldn't save it because you're not black!
Randal: Well, listen to you--telling me I can't do something because of the color of my skin. You're the racist, man!

Dante: Can you feel it?
Randal: Feel what?
Dante: Today is the first day of the rest of our lives.


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