Ace Ventura: If I’m not back in five minutes… just wait longer.
Mrs. Finkle: It was all that Dan Marino’s fault, everyone knows that. If he had held the ball, laces out, like he was supposed to, Ray would never have missed that kick. Dan Marino should die of gonorrhea and rot in hell. Would you like a cookie, son?
Lois Einhorn: Listen, pet dick. How would you like me to make your life a living hell?
Ace Ventura: Well, I’m not really ready for a relationship, Lois, but thank you for asking. Hey, maybe I’ll give you a call sometime. Your number’s still 911? All righty then
Mr. Shickadance: [comes from behind Ace] Ventura.
Ace Ventura: Yes Satan.
[turns around and sees Mr. Shickadance]
Ace Ventura: Ohh, I thought you were someone else.
Melissa: Hi, I’m Melissa Robinson.
Ace Ventura: Pleasure to meet you.
Melissa: Did you have any trouble getting in?
Ace Ventura: No, the guy with the rubber glove was surprisingly gentle.
Ronald Camp: Who is he, a friend?
Melissa Robinson: No, this is–this is my date. He’s a lawyer.
Camp: Well, does he have a name, or should I call him “lawyer”?
Robinson: No, this is Ace. Um, Tom Ace.
Ventura: Tom Ace. Pleasure to meet you Mr. Camp, and congratulations on all your success. You smell terrific. I was just telling Melissa that one of the first things we learned back at Stanford Law was the modern proliferation of food poisoning claims against wealthy private homeowners. In fact, if one were so inclined, one could make quite a lucrative law practice with little else. How is everyone feeling tonight?
Camp: [nervously] Very, very well, thank you.
Ventura: [to Melissa] Oh. Look, honey, there’s the hors d’oeuvres. [looks suspiciously at Camp]
Roger Podactor: Who’s he?
Melissa Robinson: Roger Podactor, meet Ace Ventura. He’s our pet detective.
Podactor: [shakes Ace’s hand.] Nice to meet you, you were highly recommended by Martha Metz.
Ace Ventura: Martha Metz? Oh, yeah, the bitch.
Ventura: Pekingese, hyperactive, lost in Highland Park area. She was half-dead when I found her. [looks at the tank area] Is that the tank? Excuse me. [walks off with Melissa and Roger standing in disbelief]
[Aguado stomps on a cockroach to provoke Ventura]
Aguado: Homicide, Ventura. Now how ya gonna solve that one?
Ace Ventura: Good question, Aguado. First, I’d establish a motive. In this case the killer saw the size of the bug’s DICK, and became insanely jealous.
Ace Ventura: Then I’d lose 30 pounds… porkin’ his wife!
Aguado: Why you…!
[Aguado charges Ace, but Ace makes him do a face-plant that ends with his face just an inch or so from the dead bug]
Ace Ventura: Now, kiss and make up.
Ace: You’re an extreme workaholic. You recently returned from a short trip to Gotan in northern Africa, and upon your return you more than likely took a nasty spill because of some… shotty masonry work.
Vincent Cadby: Very impressive… might I ask, how?
Ace: Surely… The abrasion on the palm of your left hand is the type one sustains breaking a fall of 3 to 5 feet; the small reminisce of plaster on the tip of your shoe pointed to a careless mason beam; the culprit: your new watch, a quality forgery of a Cartier was most likely purchased through the north African black market known to reside in Gotan.
[Ace gasps for air]
Vincent Cadby: And my work habits?
Ace: Yes, a workaholic; the urine stain on your pants would signify that you’re a single shake man, far too busy for the follow-up jiggle.
Ace: Just what sort of bat are we talking about?
Fulton Greenwall: The Great White Bat, of course.
Ace: Corpus Kilochiroptera?
Fulton Greenwall: Yes, but to the natives… Shikaka.
[the Wachati chief and his son bow upon hearing the name]
[they bow again]
[they bow again]
[they begin to bow, but stop]
Ace: Ohhh! Shishkebab.
[they almost bow]
Ace: Shawshank Redemption.
[they almost bow]
[the chief bows]
Ace: You’re outta there! Go on, I gotcha, you’re out.
[the confused chief exits the hut]
Ace: That’s a lovely wrap you’re wearing! Perhaps I could buy you some fluffy new slippers, made from the heads of innocent and defenseless baby seals!
The Monopoly Guy: Who is this ghastly man?
Ace: Ace Ventura, Pet Detective. And YOU must be the Monopoly guy! Hey.
Ace: Thanks for the free parking.
Pompous woman: Another ACTIVIST, McGuire.
The Monopoly Guy: Activist, yes
Ace: [imitating him] activist, yes, mhmhmhmhmhmhmhmhm!
Pompous woman: Mr. Ventura, there is nothing wrong with enjoying the fruits of nature. You should try it sometime.
Ace: Alrighty then!
[smacks man in the face which knocks him unconscious, drapes him over his shoulders and begins to sing and dance exotically]
Ace: [shakes man] Do not pass go! Do not collect $200!
[hands back man to pompous woman]
Ace: It’s lovely, but I fancy myself in autumn!
Ace: [smiling nervously] Well, everything here seems good! Big load off my mind, aw God. You can speculate all you want, but unless you check it out for yourself, you never know!
[face quickly turns serious]
Ace: We should head back now.
Fulton Greenwall: Don’t you think you should investigate?
Ace: There’s no reason to go in there. Ever. I sense it as a holy man.
Fulton Greenwall: But I thought you said…
Ace: It’s DARK! I could fall into a precipice!
Ouda: [hands him a torch] Here! Take this
Ace: Spank you, Helpy Helperton.
Ace: I’ll have you know that I have the reflexes of a cat and the speed of a mongoose. Throw it. I DARE YOU!
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