Of all of the larger than life celebrities Hollywood has to offer, none would be stranger to encounter in everyday life than Christopher Walken. But what if a few things had broken a little differently for Mr. Walken, and he hadn't made it as an actor. Would he have been able to hold down a regular 9 to 5 like everyone else?
"He' cute. What's his name? TODD? That's a nice name. I used to have an Irish Setter, too. Last time I saw him, he was playing Russian Roulette, in 'Nam. He lacked the opposable thumbs required to be good at the game. Years later I heard he, blew his BRAINS out. When I asked how a dog, could do such a thing, I was told that my Irish Setter was actually a depressive homeless man. That I kept on a leash in my living room. Tell you what though, deep down I'll always know he was an Irish Setter, just like Todd here. Wow. Not even half Setter? He' your son? Well, maybe, instead of being angry, you should try to calm him down. Setter or not, I don't think Todd's going to neuter himself."
"Why are you crying, children? Do you fear the fire? No, I'm not familiar with the term. I mean I get it. I'm a man who fights fire, so therefore I'm a fireman. That is a place where there is fire. Making it a fireplace. You have still yet to explain to me why my fire axe is not required."
"So I'm sitting here, looking, at this THING. You've got something, it doesn't even qualify as a cavity. What you have here, is a big wet hole. In the middle of your face."
"Christ walked upon this Earth, but we grew tired of Him, His entire holier-than-thou vibe, so we killed Him. By pounding nails through His hands. Left Him hanging up. There. On that crucifix. Anyways, I'd imagine he is pretty, FUCKING, pissed off at us. I'm forgetting, now, what that story has to do with your husband's funeral."
"I'm here. I'm right here. I'll be hiding in plain sight while you explore our commercial offerings. But if you desire my assistance, friend, you're going to have to prove your willingness to ask for it."
"This famous site is -- not -- what I want to talk to you about today. See that bench over there? One night, very late, I saw an elderly one-eyed Mexican hooker sitting there, in the moonlight, sucking a drunken man's cock. She must have been nearly toothless, crippled, deaf, riddled with disease. But she treated her client like he was a king. It was the loveliest sight I have ever seen. That's why I remember the Alamo."
"This car, Mister Ringmaster. This fucking tiny car holds seventeen full-sized adult male circus performers. Packed ass to face, like grease-painted sardines. But no more. Today we take the Big Top. Thousands will die."
"I'm going to say this quietly, because I respect you. I respect our arrangement here. Sincerely. I hope that the stapler attached to your genitals has been sufficient in communicating that my associates do not take kindly to overdue materials. Do we have an understanding?"
"Here is how it's going to go down. You're going to put your cash on the dresser. I will then endeavor to drain your testicles, by any means necessary. And I will succeed. You're free to walk out of this motel room, of course. But I advise you to consider my slender hands, my narrow mouth, my dancer's build. Consider these things. Carefully."