— Hey, Uncle Scar. When I'm king, what'll that make you?
— A monkey's uncle.
— Uncle Scar! My dad just showed me the whole kingdom, and I'm gonna rule it all!
— Yes? Well, forgive me for not leaping forjoy. Bad back, you know.
— Must've slipped my mind.
— Yes, well, as slippery as your mind is...
— Don't turn your back on me, Scar.
— Oh, no, Mufasa. Perhaps you shouldn't turn your back on me.
— Yeah, be prepared. We'll be prepared. For what?
— For the death of the king.
— Why, is he sick?
— No, fool, we're going to kill him. And Simba, too.
— Hey, Uncle Scar. When I'm king, what'll that make you?
— A monkey's uncle.
— Why, if it isn't my big brother descending from on high to mingle with the commoners.
— Sarabi and I didn't see you at the presentation of Simba.
— That was today? I feel simply awful!
— Nobody knows my sorrow...
— Oh, Zazu, do lighten up. Sing something with a little bounce in it.
— lt's a small world after all
— No, no! Anything but that!
— l've got a lovely bunch of coconuts
— DeedIe dee dee
— There they are a-standing in a row
— Big ones, small ones, some as big as your head
— I would never have had to do this with Mufasa.
— What? What did you say?
— Nothing.
— You know the law. Never, ever mention that name in my presence. I am the king!
— Yes, sire, you are the king. I... I only mentioned it to illustrate the differences in your royal managerial approaches.
