The Janitor Always Mops Twice

Charlie:I suppose I should start at the end. My end, that is.

Charlie:That poor sap doing the two-step to nowhere is me.

Charlie:The victim? A handicap stall. The murderer? A butt. But whose butt?

trouble walked in like it always does, on a great set of legs.

Charlie:Boy, has he got you trained. All that for a whistle? I wonder what you'd do for a biscuit.

Charlie:Don't worry. In five minutes, he'll be up and chasing his tail again.

Charlie:You know, they say any port in a storm, and this port just... Ah, shit, it's you!

Dee:He's been diarrhea-poisoned.

Dee:He's absolutely carpet-bombed my bathroom. And my carpet.

Charlie:Huh. Lot of that going around.

Dee:I'm a knockout blonde with a body that would make a statue blush.

Charlie:I get more of a goon vibe from you.

Charlie:Make it stiff enough to stand on its head and sing 'Oh! Susanna'.

Dee:You can have tap.

Frank:The rat bastard liquefied my guts

Charlie:You're giving off big goon vibes, Dee. Very goonish.

Charlie:Don't be a liar, Frankie-Boy, or your pants will catch on fire. Or they would, if you were wearing any pants.

Charlie:I found enough beef to open a hamburger store.

Charlie:I'm a janitor. Cleaning up messes is what I do.

Charlie:Her eyes glistened in the moonlight like fresh gasoline puddles.

Charlie:They were the kind of eyes you could fall in... and summer in. And winter in, too.

Waitress:My boyfriend looks like a bad apple, but once you get to know Vince, you'd like him even less.

Waitress:You don't seem like the straightening type. Maybe 'cause you got me all twisted.

Mac:Yeah, there's no booze, no legal cooze. Sounds like a snooze. And there's barely any dudes.

Charlie:Cricket? What are you doing here?

Cricket:Dee paid me to cover her shift, hence the getup.

Cricket:More. Oh, yes. Do it. Harder. Yes. I'm a slut.

Cricket:Frank hired me to go down to the local bars and stick my fingers in the garnish stations.

Cricket:When someone flashes a roll of nickels at you, you don't ask questions, you just do.

Waitress:Plus, I saw you put cat food in it.

Charlie:Maybe I did, maybe I didn't.

Waitress:You did, Charlie, I saw you scoop it out of the can...

Charlie:Why are you smiling?

Dee:Well, I'm trying to look sexy.

Charlie:You're supposed to be dead.

Charlie:You're not supposed to be sexy. You're supposed to be the goon.

Dee:I'm not the goddamn goon.

Dennis:He gives us 30%, only Mac thinks it's ten.

Charlie:You talking to me? Yeah. Well, I can't tell 'cause I'm not looking at you.

Mac:We ain't looking at you either.

Mac:We ain't looking at you either.

Charlie:I'm no matador, Frank, so you can cut the bull.

Charlie:Red 40.

Charlie:Ammonia-bleach cocktail, aka the Janitor's Helper. Luckily, I'm immune. I've built up a healthy tolerance over the years, or unhealthy, depending on how you look at it.

Charlie:He's gonna wake up with his head pounding harder than a Chinese crossword puzzle. Huh? Was that... That one wasn't clear?

Charlie:No, you put bleach on poison, it cancels it out, I'm pretty sure. No, it makes the poison more poisoning.

Charlie:So that's why that shot I took wasn't vodka. It was bleach. The universal poison antidote.

Dee:I was undercover the whole time.

Waitress:I mean, what are you talking about? That doesn't even make sense.

Charlie:Now I'm about to shit my brains all over this floor. But don't worry. I'll mop twice. I always do.