The 10 Dumbest Movie Lines Ever


As inspired by this:

Forbes Article

Aaaand… action.

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Leading Lady: ‎”What kind of a man are you?”

Bucko: “I’m the type of guy who’ll take you to a beach and hold his hand over your eyes just so you can feel how soft the sand is under your feet. I’m the sort of chap who’ll give you self-insight just by making a simple observation about what kind of eggs you like. Or don’t like. I’m the kind of man—”

Leading Lady: “Tell you who you aren’t, Bucko, you ain’t no Richard Gere!”

She exits, hair flying, heels clicking.

Bucko: “What the…?!”

She reappears in doorway.

Leading Lady: “And why would your hand over my eyes make me feel how soft the sand is under my feet? Wouldn’t it be better you gave me a pedicure and massaged some blood into my soles instead of hiding the beach from me? Oh, guess where we are! You’ll never guess. No, don’t look with your eyes, feel with your feet, honey. Pah-lease.”

Bucko: “Gosh, you’re pretty when you’re mad.”

Clicking of heels as she enters.

SMACK!

Bucko: “Oww. Okay, okay, listen—”

Leading Lady: “No, you listen! I’ve had it with you starting monologues from other movies when we’re in the middle of a scene. It makes me feel cheap and it makes you look like an asshole, trying to be something you’re not. Bucko, you have to see how silly it is to borrow lines from romcoms when we always have been and apparently always will be stuck in this action-thriller-drama from hell.”

Loud CRASH from downstairs. SWAT team swarms into apartment.

Officer: “All right, son. Give me the gun.”

Bucko: “But I don’t have a gun.”

Officer: “Ma’am?”

Leading Lady: “I don’t have one either.”

Officer: “You can put your hands down, you kinda look like idiots.”

They put their hands down.

Officer: “I thought this was the second plot point.”

Leading Lady: “No, we haven’t gotten there yet. My ‘hero’ needed to adlib the speech from-”

Bucko: “Yes, but let’s not bore the nice black-clad-might-or-might-not-turn-out-to-be-my-father type of person who is just trying to save the day while observing us closely for weaknesses that he can use against us in the actual climax of the film, shall we?”

Officer: “How can you…? How did you know that?”

Bucko: “What? Oh, I read the script. Didn’t you?”

Officer: “Yes. But I didn’t think the hero was allowed to. How are you going to make all the difficult choices that make you grow if you already know where it’s headed? That’s cheating.”

Leading Lady: “Yeah, I’ve already been down that road with him, but he doesn’t just read our screenplay, you know.”

Shocked intake of breath from SWAT team.

Officer: “You read other screenplays?”

Leading Lady: “He watches the movies of other screenplays.”

The Officer lunges forward, is held back by his team as he tries to get at Bucko.

Team Member: “Sir, don’t, it’s too early in the plotline for a face-off!”

Officer: “I’ll get you. I swear I will! Do you hear me?!”

With a PFFTH the entire team goes up in smoke.

‎Our Leading Lady looks around, in shock.

Leading Lady: “How did they–?”

Bucko: “I don’t think they planned to.”

Leading Lady: “We haven’t had any kind of supernatural elements for the first hour of the film!”

Bucko: “I’m sure it wasn’t a supernatural element.”

Leading Lady: “But people don’t just… disappear.”

Bucko: “Did you see the look on his face? He really wanted to kill me. Imagine a movie that’s only an hour because the hero dies. Now that would’ve been a real concern. You look perturbed, suppose you tell me what’s wrong?”

Leading Lady: “They bring the supernatural in now and they make the entire story line non-sensical, you understand that, don’t you, you slow-minded baboon! It puts everything off balance. We’ll end up on Rotten Tomatoes, a disgrace to our peers! We’ll go straight onto DVD, we won’t even be shown in the theatres! We’ll start out at fifteen dollars, be reduced to seven ninety-nine within two weeks and – good ghost of Hitchcock – we’ll be at the bottom of the three-for-one pile-up within a month.”

Bucko: “Gosh, you’re pretty when you’re–”

SMACK!

Leading Lady: “I know what’ll save us!”

She hastily begins to undress.

Bucko: “What’re you doing? Why are you taking off your — naked. You are naked.”

Leading Lady: “We’re starting the scene over. Come on, quick, get undressed. Shh, shh, shh, don’t look at the camera. Alright, fine then, don’t undress. You know, it might be better with your clothes on, actually, I won’t have to physically touch you to make this work. Pout pout pout, fluff fluff fluff, chest out and action.”

Bucko: “Okay, you need to think about this for a second. You’re selling your soul here.”

Leading Lady: “I don’t care about my soul, I care about my ass looking too big on screen. So, how is it?”

Bucko glances down. His eyes catch. He raises an eyebrow.

Bucko: “Wow, it’s good to see you. Let me look at you.”

Leading Lady: “Oh, ew, get off!”

She clears her throat, straightens her shoulders, pouts her mouth, fluffs her hair, pushes her chest out.

Leading Lady: “Bucko Bukarest, if I didn’t know better I’d–”

Bucko grabs his chest. He’s in pain. He falls down on the floor in a heap.

Leading Lady: “Bucko?”

She grabs a sheet to shield herself with.

Leading Lady: “I think he’s having a heart attack. Well, don’t just stand there, if we don’t get him a doctor, he’ll die. A dead hero one hour into the film and a villain that can turn into a puff of smoke at will – this is not what I signed up for: I want to speak to my agent! Right now!”

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~ by mescribe on July 18, 2010.

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