Shooter McGavin: Damn you people. Go back to your shanties.
Virginia: What's this about you breaking a rake and throwing it in the woods?
Happy Gilmore: I didn't *break* it, I was merely testing its durability, and I *placed* it in the woods cause it's made of wood and I thought he should be with his family.
Nursing Home Orderly: Good news, everybody, we're extending arts and crafts time by four hours today.
Elderly Woman: My fingers hurt.
Nursing Home Orderly: What's that?
Elderly Woman: My fingers hurt.
Nursing Home Orderly: Oh, well, now your back's gonna hurt, 'cause you just pulled landscaping duty. Anybody else's fingers hurt?... I didn't think so.
Happy Gilmore: During high school, I played junior hockey and still hold two league records: most time spent in the penalty box; and I was the only guy to ever take off his skate and try to stab somebody.
Happy Gilmore: Looks like a slight hill. Whaddya think?
Otto: And a slant to the left.
Happy Gilmore: Nah, it looks that way cause you've only got one shoe on.
Grandma: What happened to that nice girlfriend of yours?
Happy Gilmore: Oh, She got hit by a car, she's dead.
Happy Gilmore: You know my girlfriend is dead. She fell off a cliff and died on impact.
Happy Gilmore: [to Bob Barker[/i]] The price is wrong, bitch.
Happy Gilmore: I'll make you a bet. If you get this puck into that net, I'll never bother you again. But if you miss, you have to give me a big fat kiss. And you have to pretend you like it too.
Virginia: Do you always carry a puck with you?
Happy Gilmore: Yeah.
[Virginia shoots puck and scores[/i]]
Happy Gilmore: Holy shit. Talk about your all time backfires.
Shooter McGavin: Just stay out of my way or you'll pay, listen to what I say.
Happy Gilmore: Hey, why don't I just go and eat some hay. I can lay by the bay, make things out of clay, I just may, what'd ya say?
Chubbs: Back in 1965, Sports Illustrated said I was going to be the next Arnold Palmer.
Happy Gilmore: Yeah? What happened?
Chubbs: They wouldn't let me play on the Pro Tour anymore.
Happy Gilmore: Ah, I'm sorry. Because you're black?
Chubbs: Hell no! Damned alligator BIT my hand off!
[Shows Happy his wooden hand[/i]]
Happy Gilmore: OH MY GOD!
Chubbs: Yeah. tournament down in Florida. I hooked my ball in the rough down by the lake. Damned alligator just POPPED up, cut me down on my prime. He got me, but I tore one of the bastard's eyes out though. Look at that.
[Shows Happy a small glass jar with an eyeball in it[/i]]
Happy Gilmore: You're pretty sick, Chubbs.
Happy Gilmore: [a limo passes by[/i]] Whoa, must be Burt Reynolds or somethin'.
[in slow motion, Happy hits a ball a great distance. Soon after, the ball bounces on a green and rolls into a hole. The crowd goes wild[/i]]
Happy Gilmore: [shouts[/i]] He shoots, he scores!
[Happy turns to Chubbs[/i]]
Happy Gilmore: Oh, man. That was so much easier than putting. I should just try to get the ball in one shot every time.
Chubbs: Good plan.
[Chubbs chuckles as he pats Happy with his wooden hand. The two of them walk away[/i]]
Virginia: [to Shooter[/i]] Did you see that?
Shooter McGavin: Yes. Nice shot.
Virginia: He just got a Hole-in-One on a *par four*!
Shooter McGavin: I know. I just said I saw it.
Virginia: [laughs[/i]] Oh, I hope he *wins*. He's a publicist's *dream*. I mean, a guy who could drive the ball *that* far - oh, he could *really* draw a crowd.
[Virginia walks away smiling[/i]]
Shooter McGavin: [under his breath[/i]] You know what *else* could draw a crowd? A golfer with an arm growing out of his ass.
[Shooter follows Virginia scowling[/i]]
Chubbs: They never let me play on the pro tour.
Happy Gilmore: Oh I'm sorry Because your black?
Chubbs: HELL no. Damn alligator bit my hand off!
Happy Gilmore: OH MY GOD!
Grandma: Sir, can I trouble you for a warm glass of milk? It helps me go to sleep.
Nursing Home Orderly: You can trouble me for a warm glass of shut-the-hell-up. Now, you will go to sleep or I will put you to sleep. Check out the name tag. You're in my world now, grandma.
Announcer: Quite a large and economically diverse crowd here at the Michelob Invitational.
Happy Gilmore: If I saw myself dressed like that, I'd have to kick my own ass.
Happy Gilmore: I got into this tournament for one reason: money. And now I have a new reason: kicking your ass!
Shooter McGavin: Well, I'd like to see you try.
Happy Gilmore: [Picks up beer bottle and smashes it in half[/i]] Let's do it, then!
Shooter McGavin: I meant on a golf course!
Virginia: Hey! What's going on?
Happy Gilmore: Oh, uh, I was just looking for the other half of this bottle and there's some of it and there's some of it right there, too.
Virginia: Why don't you just put it down?
Happy Gilmore: Yeah, I know.
Shooter McGavin: I eat pieces of shit like you for breakfast.
Happy Gilmore: [laughing[/i]] you eat pieces of shit for breakfast?
Shooter McGavin: No... I...
Chubbs: It's all in the hips. It's all in the hips. It's all in the hips. It's all in the hips.
Happy Gilmore: Get off of me.
Chubbs: Just easing the tension, baby. Just easing the tension.
Happy Gilmore: Yeah, well ease it on someone else.
Terry: All you ever talk about is becoming a pro hockey player, but there's a problem: you're not any good.
Happy Gilmore: I am good. You know what, you're a lousy kindergarten teacher. I've seen those finger-paintings you bring home and they SUCK.
Happy Gilmore: You little son of a bitch ball! Why you don't you just go home? That's your HOME! Are you too good for your home? ANSWER ME! SUCK MY WHITE ASS BALL!
Happy Gilmore: Son of a bitch ball. Why can't you go home? Aren't you good enough for your home? ANSWER ME! Suck my white ass ball!
Crazy Old Lady: Mister! Mister! Get me outta here!
Happy Gilmore: Here, eat that and leave us alone!
Happy Gilmore: Happy learned how to putt, UH-OH!
Donald: You suck! Ya Jackass!
Happy Gilmore: [to caddy[/i]] Where were you on that one, dipshit?
Shooter McGavin: Damn you people. This is golf. Not a rock concert.
Chubbs: Golf requires concentration and focus.
Happy Gilmore: Golf requires goofy pants and a fat ass. You should talk to my neighbor the accountant. Probably a great golfer. Huge ass.
Chubbs: I'll bet your neighbor the accountant doesn't have a shot at joining the pro tour, and winning the championships. Get that gold jacket like I never got.
Happy Gilmore: Gold jacket, green jacket, who gives a shit?
Chubbs: Golf's no different from Hockey. It requires talent and self discipline.
Happy Gilmore: Golf requires goofy pants and a fat ass. You should talk to my neighbour the accountant, huge ass.
Chubbs: Hey, I'll bet your neighbour the accountant, can't drive the ball 400 yards. I'll bet your neighbour the accountant doesn't have a shot to get on the Pro Tour!
Happy Gilmore: And how would I do that?
Chubbs: You win the Open tomorrow, and you're automatically on the Pro Tour. Then who knows, maybe you'll win the Tour Championship. Get that gold jacket that I never got.
Happy Gilmore: Gold jacket, Green jacket, who gives a shit.
[Shooter McGavin has just hit the ball on Mr. Larson's foot[/i]]
Mr. Larson: That's two thus far, Shooter.
Shooter McGavin: Oh, you can count. Good for you.
Mr. Larson: And *you* can count, on *me*, waiting for *you* in the parking lot.
Happy Gilmore: That's my puck, baby, don't you ever touch my puck.
Shooter McGavin: Stop fraternizing with the help Gilmore. Just hit your ball... if you can find it.
[Shooter has just purchased Happy's Grandmothers house[/i]]
Happy Gilmore: What the hell is wrong with you?
Shooter McGavin: Well, Real Estate is a hobby of mine...
[Happy goes to hit McGavin[/i]]
Shooter McGavin: Ah ah. Take one more step, I burn the house and piss on the ashes.
Virginia: What the hell is going on here
Happy Gilmore: Erm... I was just looking for the other half of this bottle. Oh. There's some... and some more.
[Happy Gilmore cheers and uses a golf club to do bull dance[/i]]
Gary Potter: [to his caddy[/i]] Doing the Bull Dance, feeling the flow. Working, working.
[the press is interviewing Shooter McGavin[/i]]
Shooter McGavin: I tell you, the real winner today is the city of Portland. Every time I come here it gets hard to leave. I bet you put something to the water.
[Shooter McGavin is holding a speech for other golf players[/i]]
Shooter McGavin: Thank you, Doug. You know, I saw Doug playing yesterday. And I've got to tell you, this guy spends more time on the sand than David Hasselhoff.
Happy Gilmore: You're gonna die, clown.
Happy Gilmore: [to the clown hole at the mini-golf course after it spits out his ball[/i]] You're gonna die, clown!
[breaks its nose off with his golf club[/i]]
[an alligator eats Happy's ball[/i]]
Happy Gilmore: That Son of a Bitch. Give me my ball, come on, pop it up, you dirty bastard. I swear I'm gonna... give the ball, alligator. Hey, you've got one eye, Chubbs. You took his hand.
Happy Gilmore: I'm stupid. You're smart. I was wrong. You were right. You're the best. I'm the wrost. You're very good-looking. I'm not very attractive.
Donald: Hey Gilmore, you suck ya jackass.
Happy Gilmore: Why don't you shut the hell up.
[during a fight with Bob Barker[/i]]
Happy Gilmore: Now you're gonna get it Bobby.
Announcer: We haven't seen Happy Gilmore play this badly since his first day on tour. He and Bob Barker are now dead last.
Bob Barker: I can't believe you're a professional golfer. I think you should be working at the snack bar.
Happy Gilmore: You better relax, Bob.
Bob Barker: There is no way that you could have been as bad at hockey as you are at golf.
Happy Gilmore: All right, let's go.
[Happy punches Bob in the face. Bob grunts as he stumbles to the ground[/i]]
Happy Gilmore: [after punching Bob Barker to the ground[/i]] You like THAT old man? You want a piece of ME?
Bob Barker: [shakes his head as he get up from the ground[/i]] I don't want a PIECE of you, I want the whole THING!
[Bob punches Happy in the stomach once then punches him in the face ten times. His tenth blow causes happy to fall into a small pond[/i]]
[Shooter has just stolen the jacket[/i]]
Mr. Larson: I believe that's Mr. Gilmore's.
Chubbs: Spoken like a true asshole.
Mover: I'll tell you what, you hit a ball past my ball, and we'll go straight back to work so you can watch your precious hockey game.
Happy Gilmore: Give me the stupid club.
[approaches the ball on the tee[/i]]
Happy Gilmore: [judging the club[/i]] Look at this stupid thing.
Mover: This is going to be hilarious. I mean, look how he's standing.
Happy Gilmore: [sarcastically[/i]] Yeah you like that?
[Happy hits the ball, hits the window to the house at the end of the street[/i]]
Mover: Holy shit.
Happy Gilmore: Go back to work.
Mover: That house is like 400 yards away.
Happy Gilmore: Is that good?
Mover: That's unbelieveable.
Mover: Beginner's luck. Twenty buck says you can't do it again.
Happy Gilmore: Bring it on.
[Happy hits the ball in the same direction[/i]]
Distant neighbor: You guys are going to pay for that. Ow.
Mover: You hit that guy.
Happy Gilmore: He shouldn't have been standing there.
Mover: One more time, double or nothing.
Happy Gilmore: You better pay up.
[Happy hits the ball, ball hits a woman on the roof of the same house, falls off[/i]]
Happy Gilmore: Oops. All right, maybe we should get back inside.
[to Bob Barker after Donald insults Happy[/i]]
Happy Gilmore: I'd like to punch that guy in the face right now. But I can't, you know, because I'd get in trouble. I bet you get a lot of that on "Let's Make A Deal."
Bob Barker: It's "The Price Is Right," Happy.
Happy Gilmore: [grimaces in embarrassment[/i]] Oh, yeah. Sorry.
Bob Barker: It happens. Let's play some golf.
Happy Gilmore: Okay.
[Happy Gilmore appears at a court hearing after having fought with Bob Barker[/i]]
Shooter McGavin: Hey, Happy Gilmore! Come on down!
Virginia: [stopping Happy from fighting Shooter[/i]] Hey, Hey, Hey, Hey! You want to beat him? Beat him on the course.
Happy Gilmore: That's right, I'm gonna beat your ass on the course!
Shooter McGavin: Yeah, right. And Grizzly Adams had a beard.
Lee Trevino: Grizzly Adams *did* have a beard.
Donald: You're gonna need a blanket and suntan lotion, cause you're never gonna get off that beach, just like the way you never got into the NHL... you jackass!
Donald: You will not make this putt... you jackass!
Happy Gilmore: [after missing a slap shot by far[/i]] Dammit! Is this goal regulation size or what? Sheesh!
Shooter McGavin: [after Happy putts for Waterbury victory, sort of disappointed[/i]] Oh, he's gonna be on the tour that's... that's super.
[Happy does a funny victory "dance" with his caddy[/i]]
Shooter McGavin: That's... that's cute.
Donald: Shooter! Wanna go to the sizzler and catch some grub?
Happy Gilmore: [to Shooter[/i]] Uh oh, Happy learned how to putt.
Happy Gilmore: [to Shooter after hitting a longer drive[/i]] Somebody's closer!
Virginia: [Happy has just been hit by a car[/i]] Happy! Happy are you okay?
Happy Gilmore: [groaning[/i]] Volkswagon!
Donald: [out of the window, driving the car[/i]] Jackass!
[after Happy finally sinks his putt after 7 tries[/i]]
Guy on Green: It's about time!
Happy Gilmore: Yeah it is about time. I mean I just couldn't get the ball in the hole. I *wanted* to but I just couldn't do it.
[Happy rips off the guys shirt, and punches him in the stomach[/i]]
Happy Gilmore: That guy's driving me crazy.
Bob Barker: You know what's driving me crazy? You not getting the ball in the hole!
Happy Gilmore: Don't push me, Bob. Now's not the time!
Bob Barker: [to Happy after beating him up[/i]] Now, you've had enough... bitch.
Chinese Lady: Hey! You no want breakfast?
Virginia: I thought we were just going to be friends.
Happy Gilmore: What? Friends listen to Endless Love in the dark.
Crazy Old Lady: [after the air conditioner falls out the window[/i]] Mista, mista! Get this off of me!
[yells[/i]]
Crazy Old Lady: Mista!
Happy Gilmore: Hold on, I'll be right there!
Happy Gilmore: [turns to Grandma[/i]] Hey, you know that 'Mista Mista Lady'... I think I just killed her!
Happy Gilmore: [after an air conditioning vent falls on an old lady[/i]] Remember that Mista, Mista lady? Well, I think I just killed her.
Chubbs: [Happy visits his happy place one last time, he sees Chubbs[/i]] Shut up, Happy. Don't feel bad about me. I got my hand back, see?
[Chubbs plays and sings "We've Only Just Begun" on the piano[/i]]
Mr. Larson: Trying to reach the green from here Shooter?
Shooter McGavin: I'm afraid that's impossible sir.
Mr. Larson: I beg to differ. Happy Gilmore accomplished that feat no more than an hour ago.
Shooter McGavin: Well moron
[turns to see Mr. Larson for the first time[/i]]
Shooter McGavin: good for Happy Gimo - OH MY GOD!
Bob Barker: This guy sucks!
[Happy sinks an amazing putt[/i]]
Happy Gilmore: [to Shooter[/i]] Did that go in? I wasn't watching, did it go in? I didn't see it, could you tell me if it went in?
Happy Gilmore: You know that alligator that got your hand? Well I got his HEAD!
[opening narration[/i]]
Happy Gilmore: My name is Happy Gilmore. Ever since I was old enough to skate, I loved hockey. Wasn't really the greatest skater though. But that didn't stop my dad from teaching me the secret of his greatest slap shot.
[Young Happy, hits a hard plastic ball into his father's forehead[/i]]
Doug Thompson: Doin' the bull dance, feelin' the flow, feelin' it... feelin' it.
Mr. Larson: [after bending Shooter's club and while he's quickly walking away[/i]] Hey Shooter, forgetting your nine iron.
Donald: Good shooting soldier!
Doctor: Well, You're a little banged up but no serious injury's. Just keep off your feet for a few days.
Happy Gilmore: To Hell with that, I gotta finish up.
Doctor: Fine! Do whatever you like. What would I know, I'm just a Doctor.
Gary Potter: Harness in the good energy, block out the bad. Harness. Energy. Block. Bad. It's like a carousel. You put the quarter in, you get on the horse, it goes up and down, and around. Circular, circle. Feel it. Go with the flow.
Happy Gilmore: Psycho.
