Eight college students traveling to Florida for Spring Break stumble into a remote town in Georgia where they are set upon by the residents who are out to avenge their deaths by Union troops over 100 years earlier during the Civil War.

Cory: [looking at a map] The way I see it... if we drive through the night we'll be quaffing beers by noon and boffing chicks by 5:00.
Gas Station Attendant: Pushin' up daisies by midnight.
[When Harper removes her blindfold, Kat discovers her wrists and ankles have been tied to four horses]
Kat: Harper, honey, this isn't what I had in mind.
Harper Alexander: Well, Miss Pussy, it's *exactly* what I had in mind.
Kat: [about to be drawn and quartered] I think this might be taking it just a little bit too far.
Harper Alexander: Frankly, Miss Pussy, I don't give a damn.
Nelson: I love the smell of cow shit in the morning. Take it all in boys. Sniff it. All right, all right, all right.
Cory: I know what I am gonna write my term paper on. "Cow Shit of the South: The Smell of Victory."
Nelson: Dudes! The whole point was getting away from history class.
Granny Boone: It's Ricky on a sticky!
[first lines]
Professor Ackerman: Unprecedented, historical categories. More Americans died in the so-called Civil War than in the two World Wars combined. 618,000. Although popular media usually portrays the Civil War as a series of epic battles for honor and glory the reality is far from either. General Sherman's march through South Carolina alone cost over 8,000 innocent Southerners their lives.
Anderson Lee: I'll take your glory and honor. And I'll shove it right up your ass.
Rufus: Now. Daddy. Daddy, don't mind Lester none. I got full confidence in him.
Mayor Buckman: Son, one time I had full confidence in a fart. Shit all over myself.
Harper Alexander: My daddy proposed to my mama right here on this spot.
Kat: My daddy proposed to my mom in the back of a '69 Chevy.
Malcolm: Pleasant Valley. Hmm. More like Death Valley.
Kat: Is this some hillbilly reality show type of thing?
Harper Alexander: You know this is Georgia, Miss Pussycat.
Mayor Buckman: This ain't my first barbeque, son! And it surely won't be my last!
[Harper ties a blindfold over Kat's eyes]
Kat: Ohh, I didn't know my Southern gentleman had a touch of kink in him.
Ricky: For once I wish she was the one eating
[holds up Kat's tattoo unknown that he has been eating it]
Ricky: sloppy seconds.
Milk Maiden: I actually prefer non-smokers.
[last lines]
Hucklebilly: Damn Yankees.
[Ricky is about to get skewered]
Mayor Buckman: I see our barb-a-cuties got the skewering rod raring to go.
Mayor Buckman: Got any last requests, boy?
Malcolm: Yeah. Kiss my black ass!
Malcolm: Either one of you inbred country fucks knows where my woman is... better tell me now.
Strolling Minstrel A, Strolling Minstrel B: [singing] The boy wants his bitch / Yeah, the boy wants his bitch / Sad, sad thing / A boy without his bitch.
Granny Boone: That Chinawoman had a lot of guts.
Rufus: Any more luggage, boy?
Malcolm: Boy? Ain't y'all motherfuckers ever heard of the Civil Rights Movement?
Rufus: Is that like anything like a bowel movement?

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