[Banana]

Son, we live in a world that has vaginas, and those vaginas have to be cleaned by men with guns. Whose gonna do it? You? You, Lt. Flumper? I have more responsibility here than you could possibly fathom. You weep for Jimmy, and you curse the posters. You have that luxury. You have the luxury of not knowing what I know. That Banana's vag being cleaned, while tragic, probably saved lives. And that my existence, while grotesque and incomprehensible to you, saves lives. I know deep down in places you dont talk about at parties, you don’t want me cleaning that vagina, you NEED me cleaning that vagina. We use words like honor, code, loyalty. We use these words as the backbone of a life spent cleaning something. You use them as a punchline. I have neither the time nor the inclination to explain myself to a man who rises and sleeps under the blanket of the very cleanliness I provide, then question the manner in which I provide it. I prefer you said thank you, and went on your way, Otherwise, I suggest you pick up a hose, and put a clothes pin on your nose. Either way, I don’t give a damn what you think you are entitled to!

That's my fave movie.