Melissa McCarthy: Susan Cooper

Spy

Susan Cooper

Rick Ford: You really think you're ready for the field? I once used defibrillators on myself. I put shards of glass in my fuckin' eye. I've jumped from a high-rise building using only a raincoat as a parachute and broke both legs upon landing; I still had to pretend I was in a fucking Cirque du Soleil show! I've swallowed enough microchips and shit them back out again to make a computer. This arm has been ripped off completely and re-attached with *this* fuckin' arm.
Susan Cooper: I don't know that that's possible... I mean medically...
Rick Ford: During the threat of an assassination attempt, I appeared convincingly in front of congress as Barack Obama.
Susan Cooper: In black-face? That's not appropriate.
Rick Ford: I watched the woman I love get tossed from a plane and hit by another plane mid-air. I drove a car off a freeway on top of a train while it was on fire. Not the car, *I* was on fire.
Susan Cooper: Jesus, you're intense.

Rick Ford: We have to stop the sale of a nuclear bomb. They send in someone who looks like Santa Claus' fucking wife!
Susan Cooper: Uh, did you forget? I am undercover because you are not supposed to be here!
Rick Ford: Well I make a habit out of doing things that people say I can't do: Walk through fire, waterski blindfolded, take up piano at a late age.

Susan Cooper: Well, here's to your mom.
Rayna Boyanov: To my mother. And to you.
Susan Cooper: And here's to you. I mean you may never be as wise as an owl but you'll always be a hoot to me! Haha.
Rayna Boyanov: What a stupid fucking retarded toast. You're delightful.
Susan Cooper: As are you.
[they clink their glasses]

Susan Cooper: And fuck you for saying I look anything like that fucking beast... No wonder your dad never had the son he wanted; you fuck that monster once, and you just drop the fucking mic and walk out.

Anton: You're both named Amber?
Susan Cooper: Whoa, what did I tell you about talking to me?
Anton: Nothing. You said nothing about talking.
Susan Cooper: [holds up her fists] You want me to have Cagney and fucking Lacey explain it to you? Cagney's coming down your fucking throat. Lacey, she's gonna come up your ass. I'm gonna meet them in the fucking middle and play your heart like a *fucking* accordion. I'm gonna pump that shit until it pops, you Swedish bitch!
Anton: You wouldn't dare!
Susan Cooper: You gonna cry, you little Swiss fucking pussy?
Anton: I'm not gonna cry.
Susan Cooper: You're crying now!
Anton: [voice cracks] I'm not! It's so fucking hot.

Nancy B. Artingstall: Do you know what? You play it too safe.
Susan Cooper: Oh maybe you're right. I just... I still, you know, hear my mom's voice... "well-behaved women often make history."
Nancy B. Artingstall: Yes you do know the phrase is, "well-behaved women *seldom* make history."
Susan Cooper: Yeah that's never how she said it.
Nancy B. Artingstall: What were her others, uh...
Susan Cooper: Oh, "just blend in, let somebody else win."
Nancy B. Artingstall: Classic.
Susan Cooper: I got that a lot in high school. And there was, "give up on your dreams, Susan." She used to write that in my lunchbox.

Susan Cooper: Give me your fuckin' coat.
Anton: This is a man's coat.
Susan Cooper: Yeah, but I don't see a man, do I? I see a reject from The Sound of Music.

Bradley Fine: [has gun pointed at Tihomir] Tell me where the bomb is. Ten seconds or you're dead.
Tihomir Boyanov: Interesting. You see, when my men and I hid it, I made sure to erase any witnesses. And then I erased the erasers. Which means, I'm now the only one who knows just where that dangerously compact and transportable nuke is. So... I'd say I have more than ten seconds.
Bradley Fine: Well then in that case, I'd say you'd better st-
[sneezes and accidentally shoots Tihomir in the head]
Bradley Fine: Oh, fuck...
Susan Cooper: [on earpiece] Oh my God, why did you do that?
Bradley Fine: I didn't do it on purpose; there's like a ton of pollen in here!

Susan Cooper: And by the way, I can see your gun, unless you're SO extreme that you have a second dick coming out of your hip!

Susan Cooper: Nice copter! Where'd you get it?
Nancy B. Artingstall: It's 50 Cent's! I had to deputize him to let us use it. He is so afraid of me!
Curtis '50 Cent' Jackson: I'm a motherfucking spy. Let's go shoot somebody else!
Nancy B. Artingstall: Simmer down, 50 Cent or I'll mount you again!
Curtis '50 Cent' Jackson: This day is just getting better and better!
Nancy B. Artingstall: He wants me!

Susan Cooper: You're a loud kisser.
Rayna Boyanov: Excuse me?
Susan Cooper: You're a loud kisser, and it's gross and unappealing. You look like some old toothless woman suckin' the jelly out of a donut.

Rick Ford: [holding onto Susan's legs, the two of them dangling from the landing skid of DeLuca's helicopter] I can't get a grip. Your pants are too slippery! You should've worn coarser pants!
Susan Cooper: Oh, I'm sorry I didn't wear my fucking sandpaper pants!