Kevin Smith, like other great writer/directors (see: Wes Anderson or Quentin Tarantino), is a highly divisive character. Some people love his films, others think he’s a philistine who believes the conversations he has with his friends are worthy of being committed to cinema. I can understand the latter point of view, but (and perhaps this is a symptom of my demographic) I happen to love the banal conversations present in Smith’s films. Mallrats contains the most iconic examples, like:

T.S. Quint: But they’re engaged.

Brodie: Doesn’t matter, can’t happen.

T.S. Quint: Why not? It’s bound to come up.

Brodie: It’s impossible, Lois could never have Superman’s baby. Do you think her fallopian tubes could handle the sperm?…What about her womb? Do you think it’s strong enough to carry his child?

T.S. Quint: Sure, why not?

Brodie: He’s an alien, for Christ sake. His Kyrptonian biological makeup is enhanced by earth’s yellow sun. If Lois gets a tan the kid could kick right through her stomach. Only someone like Wonder Woman has a strong enough uterus to carry his kid. The only way he could bang regular chicks is with a kryptonite condom. That would kill him.