Miguel Ferrer: Morton

RoboCop

Morton

Bob Morton: What the fuck are you doing? Do you know who I am? If you think you're gonna get away with this, you got another thing... Ahh!
[Clarence Boddicker shoots Morton in the leg. Morton falls]
Bob Morton: Goddammit!
[Clarence fires three more times, shooting Morton in both legs]
Bob Morton: [whimpers] Stop! I'll give you anything you want! Just please, please don't kill me, all right?
[Clarence pops in a CD and the sneering face of Dick Jones appears onscreen]
Dick Jones: Hello, buddy boy. Dick Jones here. I guess you're on your knees right about now, begging for your life. Pathetic. You don't feel so cocky now, do ya, Bob?
Bob Morton: Whatever he's paying you, I'll double it right now.
Dick Jones: You know what the tragedy is here, Bob? We could have been friends...
[Clarence pulls out a grenade with a pin in it]
Dick Jones: ...but you wouldn't go through proper channels.
[Bob shakes his head "no."]
Dick Jones: You went over my head. That hurt...
[Clarence pulls out the pin with his tongue, setting the timer]
Dick Jones: ...but life goes on, it's an old story, the fight for love and glory, huh, Bob? It helps if you think of it as a game, Bob. Every game has a winner and a loser.
[Clarence confidently walks out. Morton desperately crawls toward the grenade, bleeding profusely from his legs]
Dick Jones: I'm cashing you out, Bob.
[last thing we see is Morton failing to get a firm grip on the rolling grenade and Jones' smiling face just before the house explodes]

Dick Jones: [in the executive bathroom] Congratulations, Bob.
Bob Morton: Thanks.
Dick Jones: I remember when I was a young executive for this company. I used to call the old man funny names - Iron Butt, Boner... once I even called him... Asshole - but there was always respect. I always knew where the line was drawn, and you just stepped over it, buddy-boy. You've insulted me and you've insulted this company with that bastard creation of yours. I had a guaranteed military sale with ED 209 - renovation program, spare parts for twenty-five years... Who cares if it worked or not?
Bob Morton: The old man thought it was pretty important... Dick.
Dick Jones: You know, he's a sweet old man, and he means well, but he's not gonna live forever and I'm number two around here. Pretty simple math, huh, Bob? You just, uh...
Dick Jones: [grabbing Morton's hair] ... fucked with the wrong guy.
Bob Morton: [removes Jones' hand from his hair] You're out of your fuckin' mind!
Dick Jones: You'd better pray that that unholy monster of yours doesn't screw up.

[Morton and Johnson head to the elevator after the boardroom meeting]
Bob Morton: Yes! Now that's how it's done in the big leagues, Johnson. You see an opening, you GO for it!
[both walk into the elevator]
Johnson: You better watch your back, Bob. Jones is gonna come looking for you.
Bob Morton: Oh, fuck Jones. He fumbled the ball and I was there to pick it up.
Johnson: Too bad about Kinney, huh?
Bob Morton: That's life in the big city.
Johnson: [about RoboCop project] When do we start?
Bob Morton: As soon as some poor schmuck volunteers.

Bob Morton: How does he eat?
Roosevelt: His digestive system is extremely simple. This processor dispenses a rudimentary paste that sustains his organic systems.
Johnson: [Roosevelt dispenses the paste into a cup and hands it to Johnson] Tastes like baby food.
Bob Morton: Knock yourself out.

Officer Lewis: I asked him his name. He didn't know.
Bob Morton: Oh, great. Let me make it real clear to you. He doesn't have a name. He's got a program. He's product. Is that clear?

Roosevelt: The entire outer skin will be like this.
Tyler: It's titanium, laminated with kevlar.
Roosevelt: Go ahead. Shake his hand.
[the robotic arm extends to shake Morton's hand]
Bob Morton: Come here often? How you doin'?
Bob Morton: [cringes as the robot hand grips his hand hard] Ow! God! He's got a helluva grip!
Tyler: It's 400 foot-pounds. He could crush every bone in your hand.
Roosevelt: All right, attach it to his shoulder.
Bob Morton: [as the robotic arm wheels out] I like that.
Bob Morton: [Looks right into RoboCop's point of view] You are gonna be a bad motherfucker!

[OCP executive Bob Morton is interviewed on Mediabreak]
Robert 'Bob' Morton: At Security Concepts, we're projecting the end of crime in Old Detroit within forty days. There's a new guy in town. His name is RoboCop.

[RoboCop's debut is shown from his POV. At first he is covered with a tarp]
Bob Morton: We get the best of both worlds. The fastest reflexes possible today, computer-assisted memory, and a lifetime of on-the-street officer programming. It is my great pleasure to present to you... RoboCop.
[the attendees applaud and cheer. Bob motions for RoboCop to stand up and follow him]
Bob Morton: Come on, come on! That's for you! That's for you!
Johnson: Go, Robo!

Tyler: [while creating RoboCop] We were able to save the left arm.
Bob Morton: What? I thought we agreed on total body prosthesis. Now, lose the arm, okay?
Tyler: Jesus, Morton!
[snaps his finger at RoboCop]
Bob Morton: Can he understand what I'm saying?
Roosevelt: Doesn't matter. We're gonna blank his memory anyway.
Bob Morton: Well, I think we should lose the arm. Wha-what do you think, Johnson?
Johnson: Well, he signed a release form when he joined the force. He's legally dead. We can do pretty much what we want to him.
Bob Morton: Lose the arm.
Tyler: Shut him down. Prep him for surgery.
[looks down at RoboCop while his monitor vision shuts off]

Bob Morton: You want to take him offline because he had a dream? What? Are you kidding?

Chandra: There's just something about the way it sounds: "Vice President." It just turns me on.
Bob Morton: God, you girls are so great! I mean, I just love to be with intelligent women. Smart is so - sexy.
Tawney: I know. Sometimes, I could just think of something - and it could just get me so horny.
Bob Morton: Yeah, well, a mind is a terrible thing to waste. I get bored so easily.
Chandra: Yep. And you need lots of stimulation, Bobby.
Bob Morton: Yes, I do!

Bob Morton: Let's get out of here. Listen, Reed.
Sgt. Reed: Yeah.
Bob Morton: Try and keep one thing in mind. This project doesn't concern cops. It's classified. It's OCP. Got it, mister?
Sgt. Reed: Yeah, I got it.

Bob Morton: He's got this killer rep, but it's a smoke screen. He's basically lost his teeth. The guy's a pussy!