Ralphie: Dawn? Do you think I’ll get into the Hummingbirds next year?
Dawn Weiner: Boys always get in.
Ralphie: You’re saying things about going on a trip to Disneyworld next year, also?
Dawn Weiner: I don’t know! Maybe. Depends.
Brandon: Hey, dog-face!
Dawn Weiner: Drop dead!
Brandon: What’s the matter, faggot? In a hurry to run home to Mommy?
Dawn Weiner: Shut up!
Brandon: Make me, lesbo!
Dawn Weiner: You think you’re so cool!
Ralphie: You think you’re hot shit but you’re really just cold diarrhea.
Brandon: Hoo-HOO! Listen to this fag!
Dawn Weiner: Shut up, you asshole!
Ralphie: Yeah, shut up!
Brandon: Man, if I were you, faggot, I’d be shittin’ in my pants, ’cause when you go to junior high, man, I’m gonna smash that ugly little fairy face of yours into a mushy pulp!
Dawn Weiner: Well, at least he won’t be staying back a year!
[Brandon knocks her soda out of her hand and laughs]
Dawn Weiner: Retard!