He’s talking like a Thai hooker.
Addison, will you please say what you have to say, plainly and distinctly, and then get out, so I can take my nap?
Do-you-understand-the-words-that-are-coming-out-of-my-mouth?
Right, kick ass. Well, don’t want to sound like a dick or nothin’, but, ah… it says on your chart that you’re fucked up. Ah, you talk like a fag, and your shit’s all retarded.
Besides that, everything’s peachy. Thanks for asking.
Everybody knows you never go full retard. Check it out. Dustin Hoffman in Rain Man, look retarded, act retarded, not retarded. Counted toothpicks, cheated cards. Autistic, sho’. Not retarded. You know Tom Hanks in Forrest Gump? Slow, yes. Retarded, maybe. Braces on his legs. But he charmed the pants off Nixon and won a ping-pong competition. That ain’t retarded. Peter Sellers in*** Being There?*** Infantile, yes. Retarded, no. You went full retard, man. NEVER go full retard. You don’t buy that? Ask Sean Penn. 2001, I Am Sam- remember? Went full retard, went home empty handed.
You sure are one crazy son of a bitch.
I’ve been trying to figure something in my head, and maybe you can help me out, yeah? When a person is insane, as you clearly are, do you know that you’re insane? Maybe you’re just sitting around, reading “Guns and Ammo”, masturbating in your own feces, do you just stop and go, “Wow! It is amazing how fucking crazy I really am!”? Yeah. Do you guys do that
Can’t you people see there are GUNS here?
No. What you have are bullets. And the hope that when you run out I’m no longer standing. Because if I am, you’ll be dead before you can reload.
Ooooh, guns, guns, GUNS! C’mon, Sal! The Tigers are playing… tonight! I never miss a game.
Like a prick, you are having second thoughts. You are shrinking, and your two little balls are shrinking with you. And the fact that you’ve got “Replica” written down the side of your guns… and the fact that I’ve got “Desert Eagle point five O” written down the side of mine… should precipitate your balls into shrinking, along with your presence.
Drop your weapon. You have 20 seconds to comply.
That’s what I thought: no gun, no respect. That’s why I always got the gun.
Stupid thugs. People behaving like that with guns.
My money’s in that office, right? If she start giving me some bullshit about it ain’t there, and we got to go someplace else and get it, I’m gonna shoot you in the head then and there. Then I’m gonna shoot that bitch in the kneecaps, find out where my goddamn money is. She gonna tell me too.
I said it before and I’ll say it again: The men in this town are nothin’ but a bunch of lowdown, miserable, cowardly curs!
I hope you’re not letting yourself be influenced by the guns these pocket-edition desperadoes are waving around, because I’ve practiced taking them from these boys before; so we’ll have no trouble there.
That’s a crazy story, Harmonica, for two reasons. One: nobody around these part has got the guts to wear those dusters except Cheyenne’s men. Two: Cheyenne’s men don’t get killed.
In that way they’re not too different from high school girls: they may not have a brain in their head but they do know all the boys want to fuck 'em.
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