OK, I’ll play. I just love that '40’s style hardboiled dialogue.
The Maltese Falcon:
Sam Spade: We didn’t believe your story, Mrs. O’Shaughnessy, we believed your 200 dollars. I mean you paid us more than if you had been telling us the truth, and enough more to make it alright.
Spade: When you’re slapped, you’ll take it and like it.
Kasper Gutman: I distrust a man who says “when.” If he’s got to be careful not to drink too much, it’s because he’s not to be trusted when he does.
The Big Sleep has bunch of corkers:
Philip Marlowe: I don’t mind if you don’t like my manners. I don’t like them myself. They’re pretty bad. I grieve over them on long winter evenings. (Had this as my sig line in a previous life)
Marlowe: My, my, my. Such a lot of guns around town and so few brains!
Norris: Are you attempting to tell me my duties, sir?
Marlowe: No, just having fun trying to guess what they are.
Then there’s Miller’s Crossing:
Verna: What’re you chewin’ over?
Tom Reagan: Dream I had once. I was walkin’ in the woods, I don’t know why. Wind came up and blew me hat off.
Verna: And you chased it, right? You ran and ran, finally caught up to it and you picked it up. But it wasn’t a hat anymore and it changed into something else, something wonderful.
Reagan: Nah, it stayed a hat and no, I didn’t chase it. Nothing more foolish than a man chasin’ his hat.
Reagan: All in all not a bad guy - if looks, brains and personality don’t count.
Eddie Dane: How’d you get the fat lip?
Reagan: Old war welt. Acts up around morons.
Dane: You are so goddamn smart. Except you ain’t.
Finally, Guy Ritchie does a wonderfully British style of this patter in Lock, Stock and Two Smoking barrels:
Eddy: They’re armed.
Soap: Armed, armed with what?
Eddie: Err, bad breath, colorful language, feather dusters… what do you think they’re gonna be armed with? Guns, you tit!
Rory Breaker: If you hold back anything, I’ll kill ya. If you bend the truth or I think your bending the truth, I’ll kill ya. If you forget anything I’ll kill ya. In fact, you’re gonna have to work very hard to stay alive, Nick. Now do you understand everything I’ve said? Because if you don’t, I’ll kill ya.
Nick the Greek: Dunno. Seems expensive.
Tom: Seems? Seems? Well, this seems to be a complete waste of my time. That, my friend, is 900 nicker in any store you’re lucky enough to find one in. And you’re haggling over 200 pound? What school of finance did you come from, Nick? It’s a deal, it’s a steal, it’s the Sale of the fucking Century! In fact, fuck it Nick, I think I’ll keep it!
Hatchet Harry: You must be Eddie, J.D.'s son.
Eddie: Yeah. You must be Harry. Sorry, didn’t know your father.
Hatchet Harry: Never mind son, you just might meet him if you carry on like that.