Here's a golden-oldie for you:
OFFICER KRUPKE(West Side Story)
ACTION: See, those cops, they believe everythin’ they read in the papers about us cruddy JD’s. So, that’s what we give ‘em … somethin’ to believe in.
SNOWBOY (as Officer Krupke): Hey, you!
ACTION: Who, me, Officer Krupke?
SNOWBOY: Yeah, you! Give me one good reason for not draggin’ you down to the stationhouse, ya punk!
ACTION: Dear kindly Sergeant Krupke, ya gotta understand, it’s just our bringing-upke that gets us out of hand. Our mothers all are junkies, our fathers all are drunks: golly Moses, naturally we’re punks.
JETS: Gee, Officer Krupke, we’re very upset. We never had the love that every child ought to get. We ain’t no delinquents, we’re misunderstood. Deep down inside us there is good.
ACTION: There is good!
JETS: There is good, there is good, there is untapped good; like, inside the worst of us is good.
SNOWBOY: That’s a touchin’ good story.
ACTION: Let me tell it to the world!
SNOWBOY: Just tell it to the judge!
ACTION: Dear kindly Judge, Your Honor: my parents treat me rough. With all their marijuana, they won’t give me a puff. They didn’t want to have me, but somehow I was had: leapin’ lizards, that’s why I’m so bad.
JUDGE: Right! Officer Krupke, you’re really a square. This boy don’t need a judge, he needs an analyst’s care. It’s just his neuroses that ought to be curbed. He’s psychologically disturbed!
ACTION: I’m disturbed!
JETS: We’re disturbed, we’re disturbed, we’re the most disturbed; like, we’re psychologically disturbed!
JUDGE: Hear ye, hear ye: in the opinion of this court, this child is depraved on account he ain’t had a normal home.
ACTION: Hey, I’m depraved on account of I’m deprived!
JUDGE: So, take him to a head-shrinker.
ACTION: My daddy beats my mommy. My mommy clobbers me. My grandpa is a commie. My grandma pushes tea. My sister wears a moustache. My brother wears a dress. Goodness gracious, that’s why I’m a mess.
HEAD-SHRINKER: Yes! Officer Krupke, he shouldn’t be here. This boy don’t need a couch, he needs a useful career. Society’s played him a terrible trick, and, sociologically, he’s sick.
ACTION: I am sick!
JETS: We are sick, we are sick, we are sick sick sick; like, we’re sociologically sick!
HEAD-SHRINKER: In my opinion, this child does not need to have his head shrunk at all. Juvenile delinquency is purely a social disease.
ACTION: Hey, I’ve got a social disease!
HEAD-SHRINKER: So take him to a social worker.
ACTION: Dear kindly social worker, they tell me get a job; like be a soda-jerker, which means like be a slob. It’s not I’m anti-social, I’m only anti-work; glorie-osky, that’s why I’m a jerk!
SOCIAL WORKER: Yechh! Officer Krupke, you’ve done it again! This boy don’t need a job, he needs a year in the pen. It ain’t just a question of misunderstood: deep down inside him, he’s no good!
ACTION: I’m no good!
JETS: We’re no good, we’re no good, we’re no earthly good; like the best of us is no damn good!
JUDGE: The trouble is he’s lazy!
HEAD-SHRINKER: The trouble is he drinks!
SOCIAL WORKER: The trouble is he’s crazy!
JUDGE: The trouble is he stinks!
HEAD-SHRINKER: The trouble is he’s growing!
SOCIAL WORKER: The trouble is he’s grown!
ALL: Krupke, we’ve got troubles of our own!
JETS: Officer Krupke, we’re down on our knees …
ACTION: … ‘cause no one wants a fella with a social disease!
JETS: Hey, Officer Krupke, what are we to do?
Gee, Officer Krupke, krup you!