T.J. Hicks: See this ring? Topaz, my mother's birthstone. Know where I got the money for it?
Deuce Bigalow: Where?
T.J. Hicks: Man-whoring! See this keychain? Mini yo-yo. Know where I got the money for it?
Deuce Bigalow: Man-whoring?
T.J. Hicks: Stock market! But I got the money for the stock market from man-whoring.

T.J. Hicks: I prefer to be called a male madame. Wait, that didn't sound right.

T.J. Hicks: Don't make me he-bitch man-slap you!

T.J. Hicks: You know, Antoine's got a really bad temper. One time, I dropped a cigar ash on his carpet, and he made me pick it up with my anus.

Detective Fowler: Do the letter T. J. mean anything to you?
Deuce Bigalow: I don't know Turkey Jizz?

T.J. Hicks: God damn white boy.

T.J. Hicks: What about Antoine's apartment?
Deuce Bigalow: I'm gonna get the rest of the money the old-fashioned way.
T.J. Hicks: You gonna steal it?

Bartender: There you go. That's uhh... $11.50.
Deuce Bigalow: Ahh, no, no. Perhaps you misunderstood me. I wish to cancel my original order of the martini and two olives, and go for just the plain cranberry juice, by itself, for the three dollars. And I apologize for any inconvenience this may have caused you.
Bartender: Ahh, perhaps you don't understand. Ahh... if you don't pay me now, I'm going to uhh...take this swizzle-stick, and uhh... I'll be shoving that right up your pee-hole.