So many great ones already posted.
This isn't complete until you add the following.....
Conkers Bad Fur Day:
Paint Pot: I have seen some ass kickings in my time, but that was the shittest, crappest, crapiest, shitiest ass kickin' I have ever seen!
Paint Brush: Yeah, that was pretty crap. As far as ass kickings go, that was abysmal, and you is a shit bastard stupid bastard!
Paint Pot: Yeah, so what are ya gonna do now? Kill yourself? Cuz that's what I would recommend.
Paint Pot: Hey Franky, I think there's a squirrel that's just coming in through the door. I think it's your turn to kick his... is it his turn?
Paint Brush: Yeah, it's Franky's turn to kick his ass.
Franky: I ain't kickin' it. Why do I always have to kick his ass?
Paint Pot: Oh Franky, just shut up and go over there and kick his ass for fuck's sake.
Paint Brush: Yeah, I'm a paint brush, I don't kick ass.
Paint Pot: Yeah and I'm a paint pot anyway. What could I do? I'm a fuckin' paint pot.
Conker: Well, here I am! Conker the King... king of all the land! Who'd a thought that? But how did I come to this, you say? And who are those strange fellows that surround my throne? That you also say! Well. It's a long story. Come closer and I'll tell you. It all started... yesterday. And what a day that was! It's what I call... a bad fur day!
Gregg: Conker! Conker! Conker! Yes you, boy! You're dead! You are dead! Dead as a do... dead as a... I can't be arsed with this bloody, ridiculous contraption! Whose idea was this anyway? (pause) Right... hello... um... my name's Gregg... the Grim Reaper, and don't laugh!
Conker: Aren't you a little short to be a Grim Reaper?
Gregg: Well, how many Grim Reapers have you met before, mate? Well, what am I supposed to look like?
Conker: Yeah... that's a good point, and well made.
Gregg: Now... let's see... ah yes, Conker. Surname?
Conker: The Squirrel.
Gregg: The Squirrel... the... oh bloody hell, you would have to be a sodding squirrel, wouldn't you?
Conker: Why? Is there a problem with that?
Gregg: Well yes there is, actually! It's like those bloody cats! Such a pain in the arse! You're one of these special cases!
Conker: Oh really!
Gregg: Yes! Apparently, according to the powers that be... I'm just doing my job. I do what I'm told, and don't even get paid very much. Apprently, squirrels can have as many lives as they think they can get away with!
Conker: Oh, I see! So I'm not dead!
Gregg: You're dead, but not quite.
Conker: Huh! Right! I'll be off then!
Gregg: Tsuh! Just you wait, smartarse! You don't get out of that easily. Now, the thing is, you may not be dead, but that doesn't mean you can't die. You just have a few more, shall we say, chances. Yeah. Like cats! I hate those things! Right! Distributed around your little world are these tail things! Squirrels' tails. If you can get them, I'll give you an extra chance, understand?
Conker: Um... well... sounds a bit strange, but okay.
Gregg: Strange? It's the best bloody deal you're going to get, you little prick! Right! That's it! Piss off! I've got some cats to see! Bloody things... I hate those bloody cats... the way they meow and they piss everywhere... and their shit smells just bloody awful... (mumbles)
Gregg the Grim Reaper: I don't bloody believe it. They've got fish version of the little bastards now.
Gregg the Grim Reaper: Oh! You again. Why don't you piss off! Can't you see I'm busy. I suppose you want to go there now, do you? Where there's lots of money no doubt. One of those rich ancestors of yours. Bloody undead, unbloody dead. I mean it's even worse than bloody cats. Undead! What's the bloody point!
Sarge: At 08:30, boat must arrive at said destination. Then, at 08:25... um... at 08:25... Oh, shit! Tell you what! Fuck that shit!
Sarge: Here are your two main objectives. One, clear the way, we've got a war to fight! Two, clear the way... uh... err... oh wait, fuck that shit!
Panther King: Ah, professor, welcome. I have a job for you. As you can see... the table.
[the Professor looks at the four legged table, which only has three legs]
Professor: Ze table, ah yes! So, you have spilt your milk again? Zat's not gut! Not gut! Let me have a look at it for you. Hmm, yes, I think I see the problem. I vill see vat I can do. You must give me a moment though. I'll come back later.
Panther King: Don't be too long.
Professor: Oh, I von't sire.
Panther King: Because you know what happened... last time...
Professor: Ah, only to vell, my lord, only too vell. Vell, goodbye!
Panther King: I don't want to have to take out the duct-tape again!
Professor: Um, yes, I mean, no, I mean, I don't want to take out ze duct tape again! Well, I must be off! Goodbye!
Gargoyle: Have you ever sat on a piece of gothic architecture for 200 hundred years, it gets right up your ass you know.
Franky: I is gonna stick my big fork right in yas!
Conker: Were you parents related? Like before they were married?
King Bee: You know, in my own country, I am a king!
Conker: Oh, really?
King Bee: Yeah... that bitch threw me out. Apparently, the hive keeps getting stolen. I don't care. Couldn't fit in the fucking thing anyway, seen how fat she is... bitch!
Fire Imp 2: We can't get out through the normal door!
Fire Imp 1: Oh, well there's this door here. Where does that go?
Fire Imp 2: Um... I don't think we wanna go that way. It's the BACK PASSAGE!
Fire Imp 1: AAAAAAAAAAAAAH!
Fire Imp 2: It can't be the only way out! What's this button do?
[Sirens go off]
Computer: Warning! Warning! Self-destruct in one second...
Fire Imp 1: Oh, you stupid f...
The Boss: There are two ways of doin this, my way or its a he'a a dead motherfucker way. Take your pick.
And of course the incredibly memorable Great Mighty Poo.
First verse:
Great Mighty Poo:
Ahem-hem. Mi mi mi mi miiiii …
I am the Great Mighty Poo
and I'm going to throw my shit at you.
A huge supply of tish comes from my chocolate starfish.
How about some scat, you little twat?
Second verse:
Great Mighty Poo:
Do you really think you'll survive in here?
You don't seem to know which creek you're in.
Sweet corn is the only thing that makes it through my rear.
How d'you think I keep this lovely grin?
(Have some more caviar!)
Third verse:
Great Mighty Poo:
Now I'm really getting rather mad.
You're like a niggly tiggly shitty little tag-nut.
When I knock you out with all my bab,
I'm going to take your head and ram it up my butt!
Conker: Your butt?
Great Mighty Poo: My butt!
Conker: Your butt?!
Great Mighty Poo: That's right, my butt!
Conker: Err …!
Great Mighty Poo: My butt!
Conker: Agh!
Great Mighty Poo: My Buuuuuuuuutt!
Final quote:
Great Mighty Poo: Ah! You cursed squirrel! Look what you've done! I'm flushing! I'm flushing! Oh, what a world, what a world! Who'd have thought a good little squirrel like you could destroy my beautiful clagginess! Ah! I'm going! Oh! Ahh! No! Aaaaaaah!
Conker: Huh huh! Now that's what I call a bowel movement!
