“That’s tasteless, disgusting, and offensive. I like it.”

The Scoop: 1994 PG-13, directed by Hart Bochner and starring Jeremy Piven, Chris Young and Megan Ward

Tagline: Flunk ’em if they can’t take a joke

Summary Capsule: An ex-frat struggles to survive in the world of political correctness and oppressors.

Kym’s rating: Three and a half out of four kegs

Kym’s review: Another movie for those of us who demand to be rebels and take a stand against becoming like everyone else. I honestly had some trepidations about this movie, but five minutes into it, I was hooked. It’s terribly funny with lots of sarcastic wit (I’m a smart-ass so I loved it. What can I say?).

The premise of the movie, boiled down to a few words, is it’s basically the story of a few people (know affectionately as The Pit) against the rest of the world. The PC groups (especially the Womynists) were hysterical and the rest of the gang, including Gary Busey’s son as a pot head, were a treat to watch. I’m glad I went against my initial misgivings and watched it. Anyone who knows the PC hell that the world is quickly becoming should enjoy this one.

Justin’s rating: This movie will bear my children. Or at least I’ll name a pet after it.

Justin’s review: I’m fairly sure that no two people have the same college experience. Yet whether we went to a local vo-tech school or Hah-vahd Univah-sity, I think we’re all quite familiar with the pure insanity that young men and women ages 18 to 22 can stir up when packed together and asked to write complex compare-and-contrast essays on the symbolic nature of Paradise Lost at three o’clock in the morning. Usually it involves long distance shaving cream fights and several mind-altering substances, such as four-day-old coffee reheated to a nice boil. College students are constantly two meals of Hungarian Goulash away from nuthouse visitation, and so it was refreshing to find a movie that not only captured the moronic ideals of collegiate activists, but also had a bunch of kids just throwing raw meat for fun.

This is PCU, my all-time favorite comedy. It’s a short, dazzling little treasure chest of quotes and hilarity, and I heartily recommend it past the point of other people telling me to shut up about it.

It’s May 1994, and pre-frosh Tom (Chris Young) makes a visit to Port Chester University to check things out. Fortunately for us (and partially unfortunate for Tom), he falls into the hands of The Pit, the most anti-social wacko semi-frat on campus. The Pit consists of dual jocks Dave & Dave; a fellow in his pajamas named Pigman (who’s watching TV nonstop for his thesis); Cil, the girl with a (guitar) axe to grind; Rodge and Deege, two moronic band members; Katie (Megan Ward), the ultra-cute freshman; Gutter (Jon Favreau) the out-of-control music major; and Moles (Alex Desert), a guy so cool he’s gotta wear shades… all the time.

Leading this rag tag assembly is Droz (Jeremy Piven), a seventh-year senior whose receding hairline and staccado-fast wit is the envy of his friends and curse of his not-friends. Droz’s extreme facial gestures and seething sarcasm is the envy of all of us, surely.

Initially, Tom is given a tour of college life by Droz and his cronies but is soon separated from The Pit and forced to fend for himself as he manages to offend the entire campus.

Meanwhile, The Pit is faced with a major damage bill, and to keep their house, they attempt the grandest party to end all parties. The only problem, of course, are the other students. No longer are we in Animal House days, where it was students vs. authority. Now it’s the nutty students vs. the activist students. PCU is a cesspool for every ultra-stereotypical group on the college scene: Womynists and pot-smoking hippies, Republicans and flower children, gays and African Americans, geeks and townies — not to mention the Cause-Heads, who just can’t figure out what they stand for this week.

As the Pit wages war against the student groups, we’re treated to an increasing rate of general lunacy, not the least of which is an escaped whooping crane, a band with an extreme double entendre for a name, and George Clinton.

What makes PCU such a great ride is that the entire movie consists of one-liners that Freddy Prinze Jr. would shave his sideburns off for. You can watch, rewatch, watch backwards (a la Memento), watch dubbed in Spanish… you’ll be quoting PCU for the rest of your life. It’s the college film we’ve all experienced in some way or another, but maybe it’s also the college film that tells us the chucking raw ground beef at guitar players can be a GOOD thing, too. PCU. It’s what’s for funny.

Kyle’s rating: [out to lunch]

Kyle’s review: When I first saw PCU, it was on Comedy Central. I sat and watched it, not knowing it was a 1 hour 14 minute film stretched to two hours. I loved the movie, but wondering why there were ten-minute commercial breaks every five minutes. But even then, it was one of the coolest movies I’ve ever seen.

Now, let me plead with you: don’t be like me. Don’t look for it on Comedy Central or something, because (ironically) the non-PC guts of PCU will inevitably get chopped out by angry, lonely censors. So go down to your local video store, they’ll have one patiently waiting copy, and rent it to watch. You’ll love it, trust me. Everyone likes it.

My first day of college, back in good old 1996, two guys I had never met before and I spent our free afternoon discussing this fantastic movie. I don’t think you can properly go to college without first arming yourself with the wisdom of this film. I’m sure you know the plot and everything, but basically it’s the story of a maverick group of college students, rallying against the uptight squares foisting PC-sentiments on the students, while the bad guys fiendishly plot to put our good guys on the street and deliver their happy home, The Pit, into the hands of suited freaks. I’m not going to tell you what happens, because, dammit, just enjoy the journey! This is one of a handful of films I’ve seen that have actually made a lasting cultural impression on me, another being the Indiana Jones series. You’ll know what I mean when you see it.

So see PCU already, and try to figure out which group you belong to. Don’t worry if you’re not a member of the Pit crew, because if PCU teaches you just one thing, it’s that everyone is welcome to party, together, at a George Clinton concert. Although I personally think that the musician is irrelevant, it’s the togetherness that matters. And let me leave you with this personal observation: if I ever meet a girl like Katie (Megan Ward), yowza! We’re gettin’ married. Peace.

Toni’s rating: This review has been brought to you by the Society for Capitalizing Stuff.

Toni’s review: I wonder if there’s a Pit at my university. I have no idea because I’m a Twisted Little Hermit with an apartment and a half-hour bus ride. So, to me, on-campus life has a mystery akin to the caramel into the Caramilk bar dilemma. Even so, PCU strikes true to my heart just like it does with any proper college student. We all have those college experiences that will one day be pointless stories told to bored bartenders. It’ll be very sad. But ignore the future for the time being and get thee to a video store.

PCU is like a really funny documentary gone bad in a really good way, but without the documentary part (Wouldn’t “When College Students Go Bad!” be a great show for Fox?). Basically, PCU follows the two-day long mishaps of a pre-frosh and his new pals, the Pit denizens as they party, battle the evil forces of The Establishment, the smarmy preppy union and a bus load of wildly funny protest groups. And -man-, are these people Evil. They’re the kind of people who keep screaming their opinions like God’s Gift to Thought until you’re forced to go over there and pistol whip them into submission. If that last sentence made you want to hurt me or drown me in a vat of rotten chum, this may not be the movie for you. All the rest of you should feel ashamed! Why haven’t you watched this yet?! Don’t let other people tell you what’s good! Damn the man! Drink Coke! Drink Coke? What am I, a Beverage Spy? No, just another Calgary student paranoid about the Pepsi Conspiracy. The Fizz is Out There.

Where was I. Ah, the Evil people. Yeah, so the Pit denizens piss off everyone except the audience, party some more, make some money and I think some sort of moral is thrown in there. And Gutter looked damn good. I have weaknesses for the strangest men, don’t I?

In case you weren’t paying attention till just now, I loved PCU. Much better than Animal House. But then 80’s movies always bug me on odd numbered Tuesdays. Must be hormones.

Clare’s rating: I’d blow Jon Favreau where the pampers is any time! (Um, okay. Back to mandatory lock-up for me.)

Clare’s review: PCU is a staple in my household yet I’ve never written a review for it because, well, Justin’s rabid love for it has pretty much covered every angle of possible adulation I can imagine. I’m not sure I have anything particularly new to add to the shower of praise and worship the Mutant Reviewers has thrown at this movie. I just wanted it noted for the record that I too deeply love every frame of film devoted to making this movie a reality. I was a sophomore in college when it came out and have seen it probably more than twice every year since then. In my mind, there aren’t many things closer to Nirvana than waking up with a seriously killer hangover on a Sunday afternoon and finding that PCU just started somewhere on TV.

I love Jeremy Piven and have for quite a long time. (See the Features section for my full on Jeremy Piven tongue bath.) He’s amazing in PCU and reminds me of a bunch of guys I used to get into lots of trouble with when I was in college. Chris Young, who I developed a pre-pubescent girl freak out for when he was in The Great Outdoors, is perfect as the corn-fed, innocent pre-frosh willingly corrupted by The Pit. Jon Favreau has a small part and is nearly unrecognizable in it, but holy monkeys are his scenes some of the funniest in the movie. Even David Spade made me laugh, and that’s something I can’t claim happens all that often. Alex Desert, (man I’m embarrassed to admit this one), has been on my radar since his days on a REALLY short-lived television series called TV 101, to which, I for some reason, was slavishly devoted. The first time I saw PCU I remember actually saying “Holy s***, it’s Alex Desert!” to which everyone I was with said basically, “Your freakish knowledge of lesser known character actors borders on terrifying.”

Megan Ward was in a movie called Freaked just a little while before PCU came out and since that movie also became an instant classic in my household I was more than happy to see her in this. If you haven’t seen Freaked, you must. Must. Must. Must. See it right now. Then she went and made Joe’s Apartment a few years after PCU and proved conclusively that she is in fact the queen of off-beat, underrated, under-appreciated comedic film gems. You know how I just said you had to rent Freaked? Well while you’re there, rent Joe’s Apartment too. And when you’ve seen all three films, bow down before Megan Ward and thank her for having such a knack for knowing good material when it comes her way. Why that girl isn’t making Cameron Diaz sized paychecks, I really will never understand.

I think PCU was marketed poorly. The ads for it made it look like something it wasn’t. Namely, a really stupid, not very well made rip off of every other wacky college misadventure movie you’ve ever seen. Plus, at the time, nobody had really heard of anybody in it, so there was no way to sell it as an actor specific film. PCU is smarter than most wacky college misadventure movies. It’s also, in my opinion, about a million times funnier. And the cast, for people like me, is tantamount to the All-Madden team. And even if you haven’t heard of any of them, they still deliver really interesting performances of material that in lesser hands would have made this movie suck ass.

Part of the reason I am so wildly proud that I write for the Mutant Reviewers is because of its loyalty to and deeply-felt appreciation toward movies like PCU. Movies that didn’t become huge hits when they were released but that are certainly worth taking a look at. More than anything else, PCU is fun. And really, what else do you need to know about a movie? Go rent it.

Sue’s rating: Is that a t-bone steak in your pocket or are you just happy to- Oh, geeze, what am I saying?!

Sue’s review: I didn’t go to college. Shocked? Amazed? Me neither. But lest you think of me as an undereddumakated neo-serf with a scruffy blue collar (it’s not scruffy) and dirt under my manicure (what manicure?), let me explain that I spent a year after high school earning double certifications in the arts of Equine Management and How To Watch Horsies Procreate Without Blushing Or Needing Subsequent Expensive Therapy.

I learned how to effectively and efficiently remove post-digestive legume-based debris (pony poo) from 12×12 Equus-specific domiciles (stalls). I know the standard procedures in safely restraining your average 1,400+ lb. disenchanted blueblooded hormone crazed stallion (admittedly easier in theory than practice). I can recognize and enumerate at length on many bizarrely named and occasionally horrific ailments. (Strangles, wobbles, poll evil, fistulous withers, thrush, bog spavin and purpura are among my favorites.) I have used the words, “sloughing”, “gaskin” and “chowderhead” in a single sentence during casual conversation. And I know how to communicate appropriately with imported and incredibly expensive German warmblood horses. (“Get OFF of me, you stupid boneheaded pferd! DAS IST MEINE FREAKIN’ FOOT! NEIN! NEIN! WHOA! NEIN! ACH!”) And my crowning achievement was my final paper, entitled: “Equine Neonatal Isorythrolysis – How YOU Can Prevent Newborn Hemolytic Anemia”. Touted as “a gripping read” by those who care about such things. Which you don’t, but if you did, I’m sure you’d agree.

Oh, and if you think I’m coming across as just a little defensive (and arguably passive-aggressive) by listing my academic glories, such as they are, you’d be right. You collegiate types make me feel inferior with your secret handshakes, dead language knock-knock jokes and smug way of knowing exactly what time the bus will get to Topeka when the train is traveling south-east at 112 mph and Mary has five apples and gives two to Bob. Seriously. Stop it.

Anyway, during these courses about horses, I lived in a student house along with eleven other females (the PMS factor was somewhere around 12,000,000,000 on the Meow Scale) ranging in age from 17 to 23. I went into this situation from as a squeaky new graduate from a Christian High School and had spent the past five summers working at a Christian camp where we sang many uplifting songs with no band instruments whatsoever in the vicinity.

Up until then, my teenage attempts at fomenting anarchy consisted of wearing what I considered to be a very cool hat (a fedora), ordering non-alcoholic daiquiris when I went out with my older friends and sneakily watching subversive movies like Top Gun and Dirty Dancing. Both of which had… you know… Naughty Stuff.

So imagine, if you will, my reaction to getting up bright and chipper on my first day at HorsePoo-U and skipping merrily into the bathroom for my morning ablutions to find no less than seven inert alcohol-saturated bodies (two of them male) draped artfully across the three toilets available for our use. To use a one-word summation in the common vernacular: D’oh!

Toto! Oh Toto! Where are you?!

But you know, I learned a lot from my experiences in student housing. Like, that I wanted to be a recluse for the rest of my life.

Anyway, aside from the aforementioned passive-aggression, this long and somewhat rambling story is my feeble attempt at proving that although I was never Kappa Beta Whatevah, I do have some passing familiarity with your more common forms of typical campus cameraderie and the stereotypes thereof.

So I can say at last, after regaling you with more precursory exposition than a convention center’s ten-year booking calendar – and I do thank you for your patience and forebearance – that undoubtedly uhm… wait. Where was I going with this? Oh yes.

PCU is a world class Pepsi-snarfer.

Truthfully, this movie made me laugh more than a… a very jolly person who laughs a lot. No sarcasm intended or implied either. It was hysterical. And to be completely honest, that came as something of a surprise. It’s a very rare event when something hyped to the point where it sounds too good to be true actually meets expectations. I’m sorry I ever doubted the raving kudos (not to be confused with the more typical raving lunacy) of my mutant peers.

The plot of PCU is so fundamentally basic that my 11 year old could jot it down in about ten minutes (after which, she’d be grounded without TV for a month). “Group of students throw massive kegger to raise money to keep house” is not the stuff Academy Awards are made of. (Although it’s maybe more creative than Titanic and certainly more compelling than Pearl Harbor’s love triangle.) That doesn’t matter, because PCU isn’t plot-driven. It’s character driven. In fact it’s sort of socio-anthropologically driven with its assorted sub-groups of Homo-Sapien-Collegians interacting (aka: trying to destroy each other) as I’m sure the ancient tribes did back when history was something you never got tested on because it hadn’t been invented yet. Yeah, okay, ancient tribes probably didn’t have megaphones but I bet they had soulful looking guys playing string instruments and crooning mournfully about their situation.

And Jeremy Piven is definitely approachably yummy.

PCU is about activism, having a purpose, a cause! It’s about drooling on windows, saving the cows and throwing off the cloak of oppression – no matter what nationality, race, gender or demographic you hail from, there has GOT to be a cloak of oppression just your size! It’s a cautionary tale about fuse boxes. It’s about standing up to be counted as the unique individual you are! Yes, just like everyone else! Most of all, it’s an awesome, entertaining, comedic riff with a funkadelic beat.

But remember, if you ever get a hitch in your giddy-up, ice it, poultice it, rest in your stall and call the vet if it doesn’t improve in 24 hours.

Intermission!

• Zak Penn, who co-wrote the script, is seen in a cameo walking out of the Pit’s bathroom.
• The Pit is located on 145 S. High Street, as seen on Tom’s invitation card.
• The film’s director, Hart Bochner, does a cameo at the end of the film. You can see him between the seats of the bus (reading a newspaper) as it pulls away from Port Chester University.
• Unique items found in the main Pit room: a vintage 1955 Buick bumper with the Pope as a hood ornament on the wall overlooking the TV corner, a terrariam filled with plastic dinosaurs, a twenty foot-high palm tree (which was originally slated for rehab school in Florida)The supposed date the movie takes place on is May 6, 1994, as seen on Moonbeam’s complaint form.
• Hart Bochner, the director, was also “Ellis” from Die Hard (the sleazy schmuck who thought he could strike a deal with Hans Gruber)
• Screenwriters Adam Leff and Zak Penn satarized their own college in this movie – Wesleyan University in Middleton, Connecticut. They previously co-wrote the script to Last Action Hero.
• PCU was filmed in the city of Toronto, and in one scene, the building referred to as “the freshman dorms” is actually the Ontario Provincial Legislature. Shot on the campus of the University of Toronto, utilizing the grounds and buildings from the law library to Kings and University Colleges, with the climactic bicentennial scenes shot on the university grounds.

Groovy Quotes

Tom: Is James Andrews around?
Katie: What are you, a narc?
Tom: No, I’m a pre-frosh.

Droz: Coffee. COFFEE NOW!!!

Tom: I’m just up here at Port Chester to see if I want to go here.
Droz: What am I, a stop on the tour?

Droz: Okay, want some advice?
Tom: Well, yeah…
Droz: Here’s all you need to know. Classes: nothing before eleven. Beer: it’s your best friend, you drink alot of it. Women: you’re a freshman, so it’s pretty much out of the question. Will you have a car?
Tom: No.
Droz: Someone on your hall will. Find them and make friends with them on the first day. Anything else?

Droz: Times have changed in the past thirty years, Tomash. We no longer swill sherry and screw goats for fun anymore. I’d love to help you out, but we’re cutting into my nap time as it is.

Droz: What is this? You’re going to wear the shirt of the band you’re going to see? Don’t be that guy.

Droz: I don’t know if you’re aware of this, Gutter, but there actually was music recorded before 1989.

Droz: Pigman is trying to prove the Cain-Hackman theory. No matter what time it is, 24 hours a day, you can find a Michael Cain or Gene Hackman movie playing on TV.

Tom: Did I tell you I was from Delaware?
Droz: Really.

Tom: What, those women?
Droz: Those aren’t women, Tom. Those are womynists.

Womynist #1: Hey Sam, isn’t that the guy you used to…
Sam: Yeah.
Womynist #2: You went out with a white male?
Sam: I was a freshman!
Womynist #1: Freshperson, please.

Droz: Hi, is Sam in there?
Womynist #1: “In there?” What’s that supposed to mean?
Womynist #2: Yeah, cock-man-oppressor!
Droz: Why, thank you. Well, maybe one of you could tell her that Mr. Pokey stopped by.
Womynist #1: What the hell was that: Mr. Pokey?
Womynist #2: I think he meant his phallis.
Womynist #1: You participated in a phallis naming?

Droz: These, Tom, are your cause-heads. They find a world-threatening issue and stick with it… for about a week.

Moonbeam: What don’t we eat?
Crowd: Red meat!
Moonbeam: Why don’t we eat it?
Crowd: It’s murder!

Cow: Don’t eat me!

Moonbeam: If every student on this campus were to starve, it would be worth the life of a calf.

Cause-head: Meat-tosser!
Moonbeam: Stop the violator!

Afrocentrist: And the walls are painted white. And the chalk is white. And even the copy machine paper is white. This, my friend, is a white devil’s conspiracy.

Pres. Garcia: So this is the sewer where you persons breed your anti-community crimes.
Gutter: Hello Mrs. Garc… President Garcia Thompson.

Pres. Garcia: You passed out cigarettes for a smoke-a-thon on Earth Day, you installed speed bumps on the handicapped ramps, and most recently, dumped 100 pounds of meat on a peaceful vegan protest!
Droz: Hey, c’mon – that was way more than 100 pounds!

Droz: Ladies and Gentlemen, I think it’s time to revive an ancient tradition that we’ve long forgotten.
Cil: They confiscated the alter, Droz.
Droz: No, I’m not talking about human sacrifice, Cil.

Droz: Here’s a hint: legeons of hand-stamped meat-heads and co-ed naked lacrosse t-shirts power-chugging watered-down miester-chow regurgitating on the glue-matted floors!
Moles: Kiln-like temperatures, fights with the Townies, lines of drunken people waiting for the bathroom!
Katy: Wait a second, you’re talking about a party!
Droz: Ding, ding, ding! Gutter, tell her what she’s won!
[Gut looks puzzled]

Gutter: Who’s on beer?
Droz: Well, that would roughly be you, Gut. I suggest kegs, multiple, cold, and domestic.

Mersh: The grand master of funk descends on the city eight-o’clock.
Gutter: Mersh, you hate punk!
Mersh: Funk, Gutter, funk! George Clinton, Parlament and the Funkadelics. Dude, aren’t you a music major?
Gutter: Yeah…

Prescot: The stitching… it’s gotta be L.L. Bean!
BD: But can he be trusted?

Rand: I see we have a new pledge! Mayflower material, I presume?
Tom: Huh?
Rand: It’s a boat. Your ancestors obviously didn’t come over on it.

Tom: You guys used to be in The Pit?
Prescot: I know, it’s sad. The swine in there are dirty, stupid, and worst of all, poor.

[Thinking up a name for the band]
Deege: Oedipus and the Mamma’s boys.
Cil: Too college radio.
Rodge: My Johnson Is Twelve Inches Long.
Cil: Interesting, but doesn’t sound like a band name.
Katy: I got it! Everyone Gets Laid!
Deege: Katy, the womynists will be all over us for that one.
Katy: What do you think Droz – tonight, at the pit, Everyone Gets Laid.
Droz: That’s tasteless, disgusting, and offensive. I like it.

Moonbeam: Remove that nail, butcher!
Dave: What’s your deal?
Moonbeam: I just heard that tree shriek. How’d you like it if I nailed a sign into a layer of your fat? Save the planet! Peace.

Mersh: We’re getting housed here, guys. I say we bring in Blotter.
Jerry Town: Blotter…!

Droz: Go to sleep! Go to sleep! It’s time to go to sleep!

Droz: They’re not going to castrate me for sitting here, are they?
Sam: Yeah, it’s what they got planned for half-time.

Droz: You remember this guy? He skippered Hitler’s cadamerand during the war?

Sam: A Pit party.
Droz: Hmmm…. warm, flat beer, soggy chips – think about that!

Old Lady: Excuse me, can you blow me where the pampers is?
Gutter: What?
Old Lady: Can you blow me where the pampers is?
Gutter: [whines]
Old Lady: CAN YOU SHOW ME WHERE THE CAMPUS IS?
Gutter: Oh, yeah, sure. [points thataway] [mutters] She knows, she knows.

Pres. Garcia: I think that Bisexual Asian Studies should have its own building. The question is who goes? The math department or the hockey team?

Pigman: AHHHH! Pins and needles! Pins and needles!

Droz: All right, deadly Zulu drum protest. Haven’t seen one of those since my third sophomore year.

Droz: Okay, now it’s true, the majority of students these days are so cravenly PC they wouldn’t know a good time if it was sitting on their face. BUT… there’s one thing that will always unite us and them. They’re young! They may not realize it yet, but they’ve got the same raging hormones, the same self-destructive desire to get boldly trashed. Look out that window! That’s not a protest! That is a cry for help!
Womynists: Stop the penis party!
Droz: They’re begging us, “Please have a party! Feed us drinks! Get us laid! ARGHHHHH!”
Dave: That’s a pretty strange theory, Droz.

Droz: Moles, you’re on the air in ten. Cil, you’re on bongos. Me, Dave, and Dave are on beer. Katy, you’re a freshman. Find 2,000 people.

[looking at the Pit flyer]
Pres. Garcia: Is there no limit!
BD: Well, what I figured they did, they cut out a picture of your head and pasted it on a different picture! I’ve done some collage work myself.
Rand: BD, do me a favor and don’t ever talk.

Droz: Hey there BD!
BD: Andrews! You’re not supposed to be here!
Droz: Hey now, that’s one great tie! Is that yours or did you borrow it?
BD: It’s mine!
Droz: That’s amazing! Where did you get that, ’cause I’ve been looking for something just like that. What are those, little snails?
BD: They’re Jockeys.

Droz: Sandscrit. You’re majoring in a 5,000-year-old dead language.
Guy: Yeah.
Droz: [hands him a thesis] Latin, best I can do. Next!
Guy #2: Phys. Ed.
Droz: Phys. Ed. Okay, you’re out of my room. Seriously. Get out.

Afrocentrist: I’m a black man. There’s no justice for me in America – I should be at the front of the line.
Gay Leader: Yeah, well, I’m gay and subject to ridicule and discrimination wherever I go!
Womynist Leader: Women are oppressed throughout the world, give it a rest!

Womynist Leader: Look at this unbridled display of testosterone! Makes me sick!
Frat guy: You want a brew dog?
Womynist Leader: We’re not interested in your penis!
Womynist #2: Wait, I think he’s offering us a beer. Yes… we… would… like… a… beer.
Frat guy: All right!
Womynist Leader: It’s like. . . if you’re nice to them, they bring you things?
Womynist #2: Exactly.

Sam: Decent party! Can’t believe naked guy showed!
Droz: Naked guy! Excellent butt. Now it’s a party!

George Clinton: Funk you very much too!

Pigman: A Bridge Too Far. Caine and Hackman in the same movie! This is my thesis man! This is my closing arguement! I CAN STOP WATCHING TV!!!

Moonbeam: Bye! Thanks for the party… oppressors!

Droz: We can finally say that when people are having a good time, drinking some beer, throwing some meat… we’re not gonna protest?
Crowd: We’re not gonna protest!

Rand: The knee-jerk bleeding heart liberals, sipping tea and playing patty-cake, those useless hippie potheads, those commie pinko leftists, the bunny-huggers, the pillow-biters…
Droz: Pillow-biters?
Rand: The butt pirates! And those beastly man haters! Tell those chicks to shave their pits and call me!

Droz: Tom Lawrence, prepare yourself… for initiation!
Gutter: Just try to relax.

If you liked this movie, try these:

• Accepted
• National Lampoon’s Van Wilder
• Animal House