Shooter McGavin: Damn you people. Go back to your shanties.
Virginia: What’s this I hear about you breaking a rake and throwing it in the woods?
Happy Gilmore: What? I didn’t *break* it, I was just testing its durability, and then I *placed* it in the woods because it’s made of wood and I just thought he should be with his family.
Nursing Home Orderly: Good news, everybody, we’re extending arts and crafts time by four hours today.
Elderly Woman: My fingers hurt.
Nursing Home Orderly: What’s that?
Elderly Woman: My fingers hurt.


Nursing Home Orderly: Oh, well, now your back’s gonna hurt, ’cause you just pulled landscaping duty. Anybody else’s fingers hurt?… I didn’t think so.
Happy Gilmore: [voice over narration] During high school, I played junior hockey and still hold two league records: most time spent in the penalty box; and I was the only guy to ever take off his skate and try to stab somebody.
Happy Gilmore: Looks like a slight hill. Whaddya think?
Otto: And a slant to the left.
Happy Gilmore: Nah, it looks that way cause you’ve only got one shoe on.
Grandma: How’s that nice girlfriend of yours?
Happy Gilmore: Oh, she got hit by a car. She’s dead.
Happy Gilmore: [to Virginia] Hey, my girlfriend is dead, you know. She fell off a cliff and died on impact.
Happy Gilmore: [to Bob Barker] The price is wrong, bitch.
Happy Gilmore: I’ll make you a bet.
Virginia: Do you always carry a puck with you?
Happy Gilmore: Yeah. Alright, now, if you get that puck in that net over there, I’ll never bother you again. But if you miss, you got to give me a big fat kiss. And you have to pretend you like it too.
Virginia: Really?
Happy Gilmore: Good luck.
[Virginia shoots puck and scores]
Happy Gilmore: Holy shit. Talk about your all time backfires.
Shooter McGavin: Just stay out of my way… or you’ll pay! LISTEN to what I say!
Happy Gilmore: Hey, why don’t I just go eat some hay, make things out of clay, lay by the bay? I just may! What’d ya say?
Chubbs: Back in 1965, Sports Illustrated said I was going to be the next Arnold Palmer.
Happy Gilmore: Yeah? What happened?
Chubbs: They wouldn’t let me play on the Pro Tour anymore.
Happy Gilmore: Ah, I’m sorry. Because you’re black?
Chubbs: Hell no! Damned alligator BIT my hand off!
[Shows Happy his wooden hand]
Happy Gilmore: OH MY GOD!
Chubbs: Yeah. tournament down in Florida. I hooked my ball in the rough down by the lake. Damned alligator just POPPED up, cut me down on my prime. He got me, but I tore one of that bastard’s eyes out though. Look at that.
[Shows Happy a small glass jar with an eyeball in it]
Happy Gilmore: You’re pretty sick, Chubbs.
Happy Gilmore: [a limo passes by] Whoa, must be Burt Reynolds or somethin’.
[in slow motion, Happy hits a ball a great distance. Soon after, the ball bounces on a green and rolls into a hole. The crowd goes wild]
Happy Gilmore: [shouts] He shoots, he scores!
[Happy turns to Chubbs]
Happy Gilmore: Oh, man. That was so much easier than putting. I should just try to get the ball in one shot every time.
Chubbs: Good plan.
[Chubbs chuckles as he pats Happy with his wooden hand. The two of them walk away]
Virginia: [to Shooter] Did you see that?
Shooter McGavin: Yes. Nice shot.
Virginia: He just got a Hole-in-One on a *par four*!
Shooter McGavin: I know. I just said I saw it.
Virginia: [laughs] Oh, I hope he *wins*. He’s a publicist’s *dream*. I mean, a guy who could drive the ball *that* far - oh, he could *really* draw a crowd.
[Virginia walks away smiling]
Shooter McGavin: [under his breath] You know what *else* could draw a crowd? A golfer with an arm growing out of his ass.
[Shooter follows Virginia scowling]
Grandma: Sir, can I trouble you for a glass of warm milk? It helps me go to sleep.
Nursing Home Orderly: You can trouble me for a warm glass of shut-the-hell-up! Now, you will go to sleep! Or I will PUT you to sleep. Check out the name tag. You’re in MY world now, grandma!
Announcer: Quite a large and economically diverse crowd here at the Michelob Invitational. I guess it’s the new tour sensation Happy Gilmore who’s attracting all sorts of people to this beautiful course.
Happy Gilmore: [to Chubbs about Shooter] Hey, if I saw myself in clothes like that, I’d have to kick my own ass.
Happy Gilmore: I got into this tournament for one reason: money. And now I have a new reason: kicking your ass!
Shooter McGavin: Well, I’d like to see you try.
Happy Gilmore: [Picks up beer bottle and smashes it in half] Let’s do it, then!
Shooter McGavin: I meant on a golf course!
Virginia: Hey! What’s going on here, huh?
Happy Gilmore: Oh, uh, I was just looking for the other half of this bottle and there’s some of it and there’s some of it right there, too.
Virginia: Why don’t you just put it down?
Happy Gilmore: Yeah, I know.
Shooter McGavin: You’re in big trouble though, pal. I eat pieces of shit like you for breakfast!
Happy Gilmore: [laughing] You eat pieces of shit for breakfast?
Shooter McGavin: [long pause] No!
Chubbs: It’s all in the hips. It’s all in the hips. It’s all in the hips. It’s all in the hips.
Happy Gilmore: Get off of me!
Chubbs: Just easin’ the tension, baby. Just easin’ the tension!
Happy Gilmore: Yeah, well ease it on someone else.
Terry: All you ever talk about is becoming a pro hockey player, but there’s a problem: you’re not any good.
Happy Gilmore: I am good. You know what, you’re a lousy kindergarten teacher. I’ve seen those finger-paintings you bring home and they SUCK.
Happy Gilmore: [to his golf ball] You little son of a bitch ball! Why you don’t you just go HOME? That’s your HOME! Are you too good for your HOME? ANSWER ME! SUCK MY WHITE ASS, BALL!
Crazy Old Lady: Mister! Mister! Get me outta here!
Happy Gilmore: Here, eat that and leave us alone!
Happy Gilmore: [to Shooter] Happy learned how to putt! Uh-oh!
Happy Gilmore: Where are you going with those clubs, punk?
[pushes young caddy to the ground]
Happy’s Waterbury Caddy: Mr. Gilmore, I’m your caddy!
Happy Gilmore: Oh, I’m sorry about that. Let me carry these, alright, they were my grandfather’s, they’re pretty old.
Happy’s Waterbury Caddy: Well, what should I do then?
Happy Gilmore: I don’t know. Why don’t you just watch me, and make sure I don’t do anything stupid. Okay?
Starter #1: Mr. Gilmore, Mr. Lafferty will be teeing off now.
Happy Gilmore: Alright, good luck, buddy.
Happy’s Waterbury Caddy: Get out the way.
[crowd laughs]
Happy Gilmore: [to caddy] Where were you on that one, dipshit?
Shooter McGavin: [to the spectators] Damn you people. This is golf. Not a rock concert.
Chubbs: Golf’s no different from Hockey. It requires talent and self discipline.
Happy Gilmore: Golf requires goofy pants and a fat ass. You should talk to my neighbor, the accountant. Probably a great golfer… huge ass.
Chubbs: Hey, I’ll bet your neighbor the accountant can’t drive the ball four hundred yards. I’ll bet your neighbor the accountant doesn’t have a shot to get on the Pro Tour!
Happy Gilmore: And how would I do that?
Chubbs: You win the Open tomorrow, and you’re automatically on the Pro Tour. Then who knows? Maybe you’ll win the Tour Championship one day. Get that gold jacket that I never got.
Happy Gilmore: Gold jacket, green jacket, who gives a shit?
[Shooter McGavin has just hit the ball on Mr. Larson’s foot]
Mr. Larson: That’s two thus far, Shooter.
Shooter McGavin: Oh, you can count. Good for you.
Mr. Larson: And *you* can count, on *me*, waiting for *you* in the parking lot.
Happy Gilmore: That’s my puck, baby, don’t you ever touch my puck.
Shooter McGavin: [to Happy] Stop fraternizing with the help Gilmore. Just hit your ball… if you can find it.
[Shooter has just purchased Happy’s Grandmothers house]
Happy Gilmore: What the hell is the matter with you?
Shooter McGavin: Well, Real Estate is a hobby of mine…
[Happy goes to hit McGavin]
Shooter McGavin: Ah ah. You lay another finger on me, I burn the house down and piss on the ashes.
Virginia: What the hell is going on here
Happy Gilmore: Erm… I was just looking for the other half of this bottle. Oh. There’s some… and some more.
[Happy Gilmore cheers and uses a golf club to do bull dance]
Gary Potter: [to his caddy] Doin’ the Bull Dance. Feelin’ the flow. Workin’ it. Workin’ it.
[the press is interviewing Shooter McGavin]
Shooter McGavin: I tell you, the real winner today is the city of Portland. Every time I come here it gets hard to leave. I bet you put something to the water.
[Shooter McGavin is holding a speech for other golf players]
Shooter McGavin: Thank you, Doug. You know, I saw Doug playing yesterday. And I’ve got to tell you, this guy spends more time in the sand than David Hasselhoff!
Happy Gilmore: [to the clown hole at the mini-golf course after it spits out his ball] You’re gonna die, clown!
[breaks its nose off with his golf club]
[an alligator eats Happy’s ball]
Happy Gilmore: That Son of a Bitch. Give me my ball, come on, pop it up, you dirty bastard. I swear I’m gonna… give the ball, alligator. Hey, you’ve got one eye, Chubbs. You took his hand.
Happy Gilmore: [to Chubbs] I’m stupid. You’re smart. I was wrong. You were right. You’re the best. I’m the worst. You’re very good-looking. I’m not attractive.
Donald: Hey Gilmore, you suck ya jackass.
Happy Gilmore: Why don’t you shut the hell up.
[during a fight with Bob Barker]
Happy Gilmore: Now you’re gonna get it Bobby.
Announcer: We haven’t seen Happy Gilmore play this badly since his first day on tour. He and Bob Barker are now dead last.
Bob Barker: I can’t believe you’re a professional golfer. I think you should be working at the snack bar.
Happy Gilmore: You better relax, Bob.
Bob Barker: There is no way that you could have been as bad at hockey as you are at golf.
Happy Gilmore: All right, let’s go.
[Happy punches Bob in the face. Bob grunts as he stumbles to the ground]
Happy Gilmore: [after punching Bob Barker to the ground] You like THAT old man? You want a piece of ME?
Bob Barker: [shakes his head as he get up from the ground] I don’t want a PIECE of you… I want the whole THING!
[Bob punches Happy in the stomach once then punches him in the face ten times. His tenth blow causes happy to fall into a small pond]
[Shooter has just stolen the jacket]
Mr. Larson: I believe that’s Mr. Gilmore’s.
Chubbs: Spoken like a true asshole.
Mover: I’ll tell you what, you hit a ball past my ball, and we’ll go straight back to work so you can watch your precious hockey game.
Happy Gilmore: Give me the stupid club.
[approaches the ball on the tee]
Happy Gilmore: [judging the club] Look at this stupid thing.
Mover: This is going to be hilarious. I mean, look how he’s standing.
Happy Gilmore: [sarcastically] Yeah you like that?
[Happy hits the ball, hits the window to the house at the end of the street]
Mover: Holy shit.
Happy Gilmore: Go back to work.
Mover: That house is like four hundred yards away.
Happy Gilmore: Is that good?
Mover: That’s unbelieveable.
Mover: Beginner’s luck. Twenty bucks says you can’t do it again.
Happy Gilmore: Bring it on.
[Happy hits the ball in the same direction]
Distant neighbor: You boys are going to pay for that. Ow.
Mover: You hit that guy.
Happy Gilmore: He shouldn’t have been standing there.
Mover: One more time, double or nothing.
Happy Gilmore: You better pay up.
[Happy hits the ball, ball hits a woman on the roof of the same house, falls off]
Happy Gilmore: Oops. All right, maybe we should get back inside.
[to Bob Barker after Donald insults Happy]
Happy Gilmore: I’d love to punch that guy in the face right now. But I can’t, you know, because I’d get in trouble. I bet you get a lot of that on “Let’s Make A Deal.”
Bob Barker: It’s “The Price Is Right,” Happy.
Happy Gilmore: [grimaces in embarrassment] Oh, yeah. Sorry.
Bob Barker: It happens. Let’s play some golf.
Happy Gilmore: Okay.
[Happy Gilmore appears at a court hearing after having fought with Bob Barker]
Shooter McGavin: Hey, Happy Gilmore! Come on down!
Virginia: [stopping Happy from fighting Shooter] Hey, Hey, Hey, Hey! You want to beat him? Beat him on the course.
Happy Gilmore: That’s right, I’m gonna beat your ass on the course!
Shooter McGavin: Yeah, right. And Grizzly Adams had a beard.
Lee Trevino: Grizzly Adams *did* have a beard.
Donald: [to Happy] You’re gonna need a blanket and suntan lotion, cause you’re never gonna get off that beach, just like the way you never got into the NHL… you jackass!
Donald: [to Happy] You will not make this putt… you jackass!
Happy Gilmore: [after missing a slap shot by far] Dammit! Is that goal regulation size or what? Sheesh!
Shooter McGavin: [after Happy putts for Waterbury victory, sort of disappointed] Oh, he’s gonna be on the tour that’s… that’s super.
[Happy does a funny victory “dance” with his caddy]
Shooter McGavin: That’s… that’s cute.
Donald: [to Shooter on the phone] Shooter! Great to hear from you! You wanna go to the Sizzler and get some grub?
Happy Gilmore: [to Shooter after hitting a longer drive] Somebody’s closer!
Virginia: [Happy has just been hit by a car] Happy! Happy are you okay?
Happy Gilmore: [groaning] Volkswagen!
Donald: [out of the window, driving the car] Jackass!
[after Happy finally sinks his putt after 7 tries]
Guy on Green: It’s about time!
Happy Gilmore: Yeah it is about time. I mean I just couldn’t get the ball in the hole. I *wanted* to but I just couldn’t do it.
[Happy rips off the guys shirt, and punches him in the stomach]
Happy Gilmore: That guy’s driving me crazy.
Bob Barker: You know what’s driving me crazy? You not getting the ball in the hole!
Happy Gilmore: Don’t push me, Bob. Now’s not the time!
Bob Barker: [to Happy after beating him up] Now, you’ve had enough… bitch.
Chinese Lady: [to Happy] Hey! You no want breakfast?
Virginia: I thought we were going to be just friends.
Happy Gilmore: What? Friends listen to “Endless Love” in the dark.
Chubbs: [Happy visits his happy place one last time, he sees Chubbs] Shut up, Happy. Don’t feel bad about me. I got my hand back, see?
[Chubbs plays and sings “We’ve Only Just Begun” on the piano]
Bob Barker: [about Happy] This guy sucks!
[Happy sinks an amazing putt]
Happy Gilmore: [to Shooter] Did that go in? I wasn’t watching, did it go in? I didn’t see it, could you tell me if it went in?
Happy Gilmore: You know that alligator that got your hand? Well I got his HEAD!
[first lines]
[opening narration voice over]
Happy Gilmore: My name is Happy Gilmore. Ever since I was old enough to skate, I loved hockey. I wasn’t really the greatest skater though. But that didn’t stop my dad from teaching me the secret of smacking his greatest slap shot.
[Young Happy, hits a hard plastic ball into his father’s forehead]
Mr. Larson: [after bending Shooter’s club and while he’s quickly walking away] Hey Shooter, haven’t you forgot your nine iron.
Donald: Good shooting soldier!
Doctor: Well, You’re a little banged up but no serious injury’s. Just keep off your feet for a few days.
Happy Gilmore: To Hell with that, I gotta finish up.
Doctor: Fine! Do whatever you like. What would I know, I’m just a Doctor.
Gary Potter: Harness in the good energy, block out the bad. Harness. Energy. Block. Bad. It’s like a carousel. You put the quarter in, you get on the horse, it goes up and down, and around. Circular, circle. Feel it. Go with the flow.
Happy Gilmore: Psycho.
Coach: Number 18, is that Gilmore again? How many times has this guy tried out, anyway?
Assistant Coach: At least ten times. Guy’s got alot of intensity.
Coach: Not a real strong skater, though.
Assistant Coach: Ain’t the best puck handler, either.
Coach: Yeah, but my god…
[Happy fires a shot, and it shatters the glass in front of the coaches]
Assistant Coach: What a shot.
Happy Gilmore: [to Shooter] It ain’t over, McGavin. The way I see it… we’ve only just begun.
Happy Gilmore: [speaking to shooter after making his first drive of the championship] Do you know what the pathetic thing is? You have been doing this your whole life.
[seeing Happy on TV]
Chubbs: What are you doing Happy? Riding a bull? You’re acting like a damn fool!
Nursing Home Orderly: I guess that alligator finally finished the job.
[a TV is broadcasting Happy’s tirade on the golf course]
Happy Gilmore: Piece of monkey shit!
Grandma: Who are you waving at, Happy?
Happy Gilmore: Nobody, Grandma. Let’s go home.
Announcer: Happy Gilmore is in big trouble, Jack. He’s lost the power to hit the long ball.
Bob Barker: How you doing, Happy? I’m Bob Barker.
Happy Gilmore: What an honor. How nice to meet you.
Bob Barker: Looks like you and I are going to be playing together today.
Happy Gilmore: [to Chubbs] A guy your size, why don’t you play a real sport, like football?
Chubbs: My Momma wouldn’t sign the permission slip. Said it might be a little too dangerous.
Happy Gilmore: Yeah, good call.
Happy Gilmore: [to himself] Oh, God, that hurt a little, but I’m alright.
Happy Gilmore: [to the golfers] Step right up, folks. See if you can out drive the amazing Golf Ball, uh, Whacker Guy!
Happy Gilmore: [to Grandma] I’m telling you this place is perfect, you’re gonna make friends in no time.