Mr. Floppy: That's what's wrong with this country. Let the weak win. Every nerd makes the team. Every loser gets to play. Gee, maybe we should have let Hitler win. He had a hard childhood, doesn't he deserve to rule the world? Jack, there's a conspiracy going on out there. Evil people are trying to destroy our great country. I'm not mentioning any names, but they're iced mocha cappuccino-drinking, cafe-eating, J. Crew-wearing, Beemer-driving, Friends-watching, sushi-tasting, Sydney temple burning yuppies!
[takes a breath after all that]
Mr. Floppy: And they're starting with our most hallowed institution, the Miss America contest. They wanna make talent more important than the swimsuit competition.
Jack Malloy: That's how we ended up with a fat Miss America who plays the harp.
Mr. Floppy: And when was the last time we won a Miss Universe contest? We can't compete with the Brazils of the world, because they know that good hooters and tight butts are more important than a
[sarcastically now:]
Mr. Floppy: sensitive soul and blubbery thighs. We've lost our killer instinct! We haven't destroyed another country in years!
[softly warning:]
Mr. Floppy: Look, world, don't get too cocky out there. The real Americans are still here. And one day, we're going to wake up from our drunken stupor, and realize we've got a fat, ugly Miss America, and say "What the hell happened here?" And on that day, we'll grab our guns, and swig one more beer, and kill, and kill, and kill
[really into this]
Mr. Floppy: until this is the great country it once was!
[patriotic fervor:]
Mr. Floppy: U.S.A! U.S.A! U.S.A!