Anchorman: The Legend of Ron Burgundy Page #4

Hello, Wes Mantooth.

Hello, Evening News Team.

Nice clothes, gentlemen.

I didn't know the Salvation Army

was having a sale.

Am I right? Look at these guys.

Hey, where did you get those clothes?

At the toilet store?

What are you doing

on our station's turf, Burgundy?

You're about to get

a serious beat-down.

I will smash your face

into a car windshield

and then take your mother,

Dorothy Mantooth,

out for a nice seafood dinner

and never call her again!

Dorothy Mantooth is a saint!

You understand me?

- Dorothy Mantooth is a saint!

- Hey.

Leave the mothers out of this, all right?

It's unnecessary.

Besides, I'm sure Wes here

is just upset over finishing second

in the ratings again.

That's completely

uncalled for, Burgundy.

You know

those rating systems are flawed.

They don't take into account

houses that have

more than two television sets

and other things of that nature.

I guess I have to take you

at your word, Number Two.

You have a great day, fellas.

We'll see you around the bend.

Son of a b*tch!

Excusez-moi, Numro Two.

Hey, Burgundy.

You know those sample audiences

aren't big enough!

Stop hiding behind

those phony numbers, Burgundy!

I'm coming after you!

I hate you, Ron Burgundy. I hate you!

You can't say one word?

Even the guy who can't think

says something!

You guys just stand there? Come on!

Right, but I think

my son is just going through a phase.

I have no idea where he would have

gotten ahold of German pornography.

But you and I are mature adults.

We've both seen our share

of pornographic materials.

Oh, you never have?

Of course you haven't,

how stupid of me. Neither have I.

I was just speaking in generalities.

I'll stop by the school a little later,

Sister Margaret. Bye.

Ed, she insisted on coming in.

Mr. Harken, sir,

I will not have my first story

at this news station

be about a cat fashion show.

Miss Corningstone, ma'am,

you will do the stories

to which you are assigned.

Mr. Harken, I am

a damn good journalist,

and this cat show thing

is grade-A baloney.

It is not baloney.

Now, go do your job, missy!

It is baloney!

Hey, Ron,

I'm gonna take a run at the new girl.

Let the games begin.

Oh, Champ, Champ,

we're not really gonna actually do that.

- We were just flapping our gums.

- Oh, yeah.

You kill me, Burgundy.

Let me just grab this.

Oh, sorry about that.

Whammy.

- Champ?

- Yeah.

You're trying to touch my breasts,

aren't you?

What can I say?

I like the way you're put together.

What do you say we go out on a date?

Have some chicken, maybe some sex.

You know, see what happens?

Oh, let me get this over here.

Sorry. Oh, there it is.

I'll give this little cookie an hour

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