“Yeah, of course I was seriously considering playing this part myself, Jim, except I find beards to be way too itchy, like a damn evil wool sweater strangling my face to death!”
“Mercy, Jim, I really hate to tell you this, but whatever you’re using for a deodorant, ain’t at all working ’round here!”
“Come on, Mel, do you honestly think that there was much in the way of deodorant back 2000 years ago?”
“Aw, give me a freaking break with your so-called method acting, Caviezel, this film ain’t gonna be equipped with some kind of smell-o-vision!”
“Okay, we’ve been all over this many times before, Jim! Don’t be ridiculous, you simply can’t go home to your wife still made up like that and suddenly expect her to finally start listening and paying attention to your needs!”
“No, Jim, you can’t keep any of the costume you’re wearing because I already have a bunch of prior commitments on all of that junk! Look, the thorny crown alone is gonna fetch at least something like five grand as it is!”
“Oh, I’m so very sorry, Jesus, I mean Jim, that all of these chairs are of the same height! Uh, let’s see, if there really was a taller one around here, don’t you think that me simply being the great director of this project would most certainly get it over a lousy actor!”
“See, Jim, you have to die at the end. Geez, that’s the whole point to the story. Excuse me, but the hell if I’m going to turn this movie into some bloodthirsty revenge picture! Hey, I’m saving all of that good stuff for when I make a movie about the Second Coming later on!”
Sharwrong's Song 