Jennifer: (on the Colonel) He often takes a little snooze between dessert and coffee. Helps build up his strength for the long walk to the car.
Henri: Desirez-vous autre chose, mademoiselle?
Jennifer: Oh, no, Henri, just the check. The mere presence of an overly-inflated bill always arouses him.
Jennifer: He was a wonderful man who lived eighty very full years, but his last years were his happiest.
Mr Carlson: Why was that? (Jennifer just looks at him.) I see. Yeah.
Les: (reading from his tear sheet) At the time of his untimely death, the eighty-year-old Colonel was in the company of a young blond woman. The Buchanan family claims not to know her identity, but say the Colonel had recently developed an interest in ... gold diggers and blond floozies? (Bailey snatches the paper and runs out of the room with it) Uh. Um. The, um, the Colonel will be buried, I suppose.
Les: What is an executrix?
Herb: I don't know. High heels and a whole lot of leather, something like that.
Herb: Hey Jenny, I didn't get a chance to tell you how sorry I am that that Colonel guy bought the farm. Hey, he had a long life, a lot of dough, he got to go out with you, caught the big bus while he was eating in the best joint in town. Not bad, if you ask me!
Jennifer: Sometimes I really like you, Herb. You really have a way with words.
Herb: Hey. I'm in sales!
Les: (accusingly) I looked up 'executrix.' It has nothing to do with high heels or leather!
The Colonel: (The Colonel's will, on videotape) To my brother Cedric I leave... nothing. Because he's always been an all or nothing type of fellow, and since he can't have it all, he gets nothing. I've paid his bills for the last forty years, and the free ride on the Buchanan gravy train is over! Did you save anything, Cedric?
Cedric: (dourly) No.
The Colonel: (in the same tone) 'No.' No, I didn't think so. To my sister Chloris, I leave... nothing. Same reason. To my brother Chester... I'd like to leave less than nothing, but that dumb lawyer of mine, he can't figure out how to do that! To my nephew Skip, who's always bragging about his van, to him I leave some advice: GET A CAR PEOPLE CAN SEE AROUND ON THE HIGHWAY, YOU'RE BLOCKING EVERYBODY'S VISION, YOU.... Now for Jennifer Marlowe, to her I leave exactly one dollar. She asked me not to leave her anything, but this happens to be the first dollar I ever earned. There is a sentimental attachment. I love you, darling. You're a good soldier. Now, all the rest of my estate, every damn cent of it, goes to the Hare Krishnas. That is, if they promise to stay out of the airport! Oh no, I'm only kidding. Actually the balance of my estate is to be spent on a parade. A parade! I want a parade honoring the veterans of my old unit, the Fighting 42nd. Round 'em up, Jennifer! Round 'em up and bring 'em here, and give 'em a parade. And when it's over, well, divide the rest of the money. Give it to the men of the 42nd, and if they're deceased give it to their families! Now look dear, don't you try and do this all yourself. No, no, it's too difficult. You hire a staff to do it. I think my brother Cedric's looking for a job. Well, that's it folks. Nice knowing you. Now I suggest you go to your corners and come out fighting!