The four boys, now safely sitting on the plinth of the War Memorial, turned their attention to the sight of the Vicar who was cycling along the street on his sit-up-and-beg bicycle.
Brad: Sara, did you take my Clearasil again? Sara: I ran out of brown (paint). Brad: Great. How am I supposed to cover up my zits?
He should have stayed away from the war wound fuckwittedness, the being cute.
For the limp movie, Matthau and Jack Lemmon did little to enliven their respective disagreeability.
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