Shale:
Did you ever look up the word "mercenary"? It's someone who "works merely for money."
Joey:
Everybody works for money.
Shale:
It's not the money that bothers me; it's the "merely."
Principal Claude Rolle:
Power perceived is power achieved.
Shale:
I'm in charge of this classroom. I'm the warrior chief, the merciless god who stirs anything in its path. You fuck with me, and you will suffer my wrath.
[
Shale confronts Juan Lacas and his cronies in the library]
Shale:
Ohh, I can't tell you boys how much I needed this.
Juan Lacas:
When we're done, I want you to say 'I'm Sorry' 100 times.
Shale:
Shh. No talking in the library.
Principal Claude Rolle:
Two of your students are in the nurses office talking a lawsuit.
Shale:
What, is the nurse a lawyer?
[
Claude Rolle tells Shale about how the drugs are shipped to the school via bus]
Shale:
And they said busing would never work.
Hollan:
Cuba wimped you out. You lost your mind and now you lost your balls.
Shale:
[
grabs Hollan by his crotch] Maybe I'll just borrow yours, on second thought they're too small.
Hollan:
[
about to walk away] FUCK YOU. Fucking queers.
Shale:
[
Hollan fires near Shale to keep him from using his martial arts against the thug drug dealer] You fucking psycho!
Hollan:
[
Hollan shoots drug dealer dead behind Shale, and hands gun to Shale] Who's the fuckin' psycho?
Rodriguez:
Move that briefcase, I wanna see that beautiful ass.
Shale:
I'd like to know what area of history you're studying.
Student:
The fuck you history!
Jerome Brown:
Yo, Mr. Smiph, you lose any homeboys?
Shale:
Yeah Jerome, I lost a few homeboys.
Shale:
I'm sorry about those windows.
Hannah Dillon:
Hey, fuck it.
Shale:
Tilt those little puppies over here, baby.
Principal Claude Rolle:
You don't teach history anymore Smith. You ARE history!
Shale:
Who died?
Student:
You did.
Shale:
Guess I am a little late.
Joey:
It's too bad we had to fuck up the school. I feel bad for the kids tomorrow.
Mr. Darrell Sherman:
Rolle was a cop. He knows the law.
Hannah Dillon:
Yeah, that's right Darrell, you keep the faith.
Rem:
Snipa on palm tree
Wellman:
Snipa on palm tree
Hollan:
Shale, I got four dead cowboys here, and one very fucked-up looking Indian Johnny Glades. Can I put him out of his misery pretty-please?
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