You want me to blow on it?
Oh you ready to blow? Well I’m a mushroom-cloud-layin’ motherfucker, motherfucker. Every time my fingers touch brain, I’m fuckin’ Superfly TNT! I’m the Guns of the Navarone!
Last night, Darth Vader came down from Planet Vulcan and told me that if I didn’t take Lorraine out, that he’d melt my brain
It seems that little Loraine’s hit the bottle again. The peroxide bottle.
I don’t care how liberated this world becomes - a man will always be judged by the amount of alcohol he can consume - and a woman will be impressed, whether she likes it or not.
It shrinks my liver, doesn’t it, Nat? It pickles my kidneys, yeah. But what it does to the mind? It tosses the sandbags overboard so the balloon can soar. Suddenly I’m above the ordinary. I’m competent. I’m walking a tightrope over Niagara Falls. I’m one of the great ones. I’m Michelangelo, molding the beard of Moses. I’m Van Gogh painting pure sunlight. I’m Horowitz, playing the Emperor Concerto. I’m John Barrymore before movies got him by the throat. I’m Jesse James and his two brothers, all three of them. I’m W. Shakespeare. And out there it’s not Third Avenue any longer, it’s the Nile. Nat, it’s the Nile and down it moves the barge of Cleopatra.
I can’t feel my bingo!
Bingo Bango Bongo!
Bibbidy bobbidy boo!
You hear that? We’re competing with Archie and Jughead.
I never forgot the night of the storm, Archie. I never forgot how I stood by and watched you chase after Veronica. How I never just went after what I wanted.
Yeah, me too. But you know I’m really wired.
You wearing a wire?
You’re taking this very personal. Tom, this is business and this man is taking it very, very personal.
Listen, shithead. I don’t give a fuck who you really are or what you want with this asshole… because now it’s personal, and he’s a dead man.
Crooked cops. Do they come in any other way? If I’d been just a little dumber, I could have joined the force myself.
It’s like my mother always said, if you want something done right, waste them yourself. I’m paraphrasing, but you get the idea.
Incidentally, “kill” is the word. It’s not “waste.” If I had wanted “waste” I would have written “thou shalt not waste.” You’re doing some very funny things with words. You’re also turning the sky into mud. I look down, I can’t believe the filth. Using the rivers for toilets, poisoning my fishes. You want a miracle? You make a fish from scratch.
All the doors are locked too. They’re protecting the people on the outside from us from the people on the outside who are as crazy as us.
I’d be less than honest if I gave you more hope, Mr. Kersey. In the city, that’s the way it is.