Aitz chaim he, Dude. As the ex used to say.
What the fuck is that supposed to mean? What the fuck are we gonna tell Lebowski?
Huh? Oh, him, uh, I don't know.. um-- what exactly is the problem?
Ah... the problem is-- what do you mean what's the--
There was no... we didn't, uh... they're gonna kill that poor woman, man.
What the fuck are you talking about? That poor woman--that poor slut--kidnapped herself, Come on Dude. You said so yourself.
Man! I said I thought she kidnapped herself! You're the one who's so fucking certain--
That's right, Dude, 100 % certain--
They posted the next round of the tournament--
Donny, shut the fu--when do we play?
This Saturday. Quintana and--
Saturday! Well they'll have to reschedule.
Walter, what am I gonna tell Lebowski?
I told that fuck down at the league office-- who's in charge of scheduling?
I told that kraut a fucking thousand times I DON'T ROLL ON SHABBAS!
He already posted it.
WELL THEY CAN FUCKING UN-POST IT!
WHO GIVES A SHIT! Uh, they're gonna kill that poor woman man. What am I gonna tell Lebowski?
Come on Dude, uh, eventually she'll get sick of her little game and, you know, wander on back--
How come you don't roll on Saturday, Walter?
I'm shomer shabbas.
What's that, Walter?
Yeah, and in the meantime, what do I tell Lebowski?
Saturday Donny, is shabbas. The Jewish day of rest. That means I don't work, I um, don't drive a car, I don't fucking ride in a car, I don't handle money, I don't turn on the oven, and I sure as shit DON'T FUCKING ROLL!
Walter, how am I going to--hows--
Shomer fucking shabbas!
Oh fuck, that, that's it. I'm out of here.
Aw come on Dude. Dude! Dude! ... oh, fuck, you just tell him... uh... tell him we made the drop and everything went, uh, you know--
Oh yeah, how'd it go?
Went alright. Dude's car got a little dinged up--
Walter, we didn't make the fucking hand- off man! They didn't get, the fucking money and they're gonna--they're gonna--
They're gonna kill that poor woman.
Hey Walter, if you can't ride in a car, how do you get around on Shabbas--
Really, Dude, you surprise me. They're not gonna kill shit. They're not gonna do shit. What can they do? They're a bunch of Fuckin' amateurs. And meanwhile, look at the bottom line. Who's sitting on a million fucking dollars? Am I wrong?
Who's got a fucking million fucking dollars sittin' in the trunk of our car?
Our car, Walter?
And what do they got? My dirty undies. My fucking whites---Say, Dude, where is your car?
Who's got your undies, Walter?
Where's your car, Dude?
You don't know, Walter?
Hmm. It was parked in a handicapped zone. Perhaps they towed it.
You fucking know it's been stolen!
Well, certainly that's a possibility, Dude--
Aw, fuck it.
Where you going, Dude?
I'm goin' home, Donny.
Your phone's ringing, Dude.
Thank you, Donny.