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2m39s
Lights out! I remember my first night. Seems like a long time ago. Yoo-hoo! Hey, fish. Fish, fish, fish, fish, fishy. - Boy, are you scared of the dark? - You like it here, new fish? You'll wish your daddy never dicked your mommy. Fishy! Oh, I want me a pork chop. Oh, yes! You taking this down, new fish? There's gonna be a quiz later! - Poke your ass out, give me a first look! - Shh! Keep it down. The boys always go fishing with first-timers. They don't quit till they reel someone in. Hey, Fat Ass. Fat Ass. Talk to me, boy. I know you're there. I can hear you breathing. Don't you listen to these nitwits. You hear me? This place ain't so bad. I tell you what. I'll introduce you around. Make you feel right at home. I know a couple of big old bull queers that would just love to make your acquaintance. Especially that big, white, m-mushy butt of yours. God! I don't belong here! We have a winner! I wanna go home! And it's Fat Ass by a nose! Hey, it's the fat guy! It's the fat guy! Fresh fish! Fresh fish! Fresh fish! I don't belong here! Fresh fish! I wanna go home. I want my mommy. I had your mother. She wasn't that great. Fresh fish! What the Christ is this happy horse shit? He took the Lord's name in vain. I'm telling the Warden. With my baton up your ass! Let me out of here! What is your malfunction, you fat barrel of monkey spunk? Please... I ain't supposed to be here. Not me! I ain't gonna count to three, or even one. Shut the fuck up, or I'll sing you a lullaby! Shut up, man. Shut up. There's been a mistake! You don't understand. I'm not supposed to be here! Open that cell. Me neither. You people run this place like a fucking prison!
The Shawshank Redemption
39.4s
Son, son. Six wardens have been through here in my tenure, and I've learned one immutable, universal truth. Not one of them born... whose asshole wouldn't pucker up tighter than a snare drum when you asked them for funds. The budget's stretched thin, as it is. I see. Perhaps I could write to the State Senate and request funds from them. As far as they're concerned, there's only three WAYS TO SPEND MONEY WHEN IT COMES TO PRISONS: More walls, more bars and more guards. Still, I'd like to try, with your permission. A letter a week. They can't ignore me forever. Sure can. But you write your letters, if it makes you happy. I'll even mail them for you. How's that?
The Shawshank Redemption