Fightclub!!!!
Narrator: You're making a big mistake, fellas.
Police Officer 1: You said you'd say that.
Narrator: I'm not Tyler Durden!
Police Officer 2: You told us you'd say that, too.
Narrator: All right, I am Tyler Durden. Listen to me, I'm giving you a direct order: we're aborting this mission right now. Police Officer 1: You said you would definitely say that.
Narrator: My suitcase was vibrating?
Airport Security Officer: Nine times out of ten it's an electric razor, but . . . every once in a while . . . it's a dildo. Of course, it's company policy never to imply ownership. In the even of a dildo, we have to use the indefinite article "a" dildo, never "your" dildo.
Richard Chesler: Is this yours?
Narrator: Huh?
Richard Chesler: Pretend you're me. Make a managerial decision. You find this, what would you do?
Narrator: Well, I've got to tell you. I'd be very, very careful who you talk to about that, because the person who wrote that is dangerous. And, this button-down, Oxford-cloth psycho might just snap and then stalk from office to office with an Armilite AR-10 carbine gas-powered semiautomatic weapon: pumping round after round into colleagues and coworkers. This might be someone you've known for years . . . someone very, very close to
[Tyler points a gun into the Narrator's mouth]
Narrator: [voiceover] People are always asking me if I know Tyler Durden.
Tyler Durden: Three minutes. This is it - ground zero. Would you like to say a few words to mark the occasion?
Narrator: ...i... ann... iinn... ff... nnyin...
Narrator: [voiceover] With a gun barrel between your teeth, you speak only in vowels.
[Tyler removes the gun from the Narrator's mouth]
Narrator: I can't think of anything.
Narrator: [voiceover] For a second I totally forgot about Tyler's whole controlled demolition thing and I wonder how clean that gun is.
Tyler Durden: [pointing at an emergency instruction manual on a plane] You know why they put oxygen masks on planes?
Narrator: So you can breath.
Tyler Durden: Oxygen gets you high. In a catastrophic emergency, you're taking giant panicked breaths. Suddenly you become euphoric, docile. You accept your fate. It's all right here. Emergency water landing - 600 miles an hour. Blank faces, calm as Hindu cows.
Narrator: That's, um... That's an interesting theory.
Tyler Durden: [the Narrator places the gun under his chin and cocks back the hammer] Now why would you want to go and blow your head off?
Narrator: Not my head, Tyler, *our* head.