You stupid fucking cunt. You, Williamson, I’m talking to you, shithead. You just cost me $6,000. Six thousand dollars, and one Cadillac. That’s right. What are you going to do about it? What are you going to do about it, asshole? You’re fucking shit. Where did you learn your trade, you stupid fucking cunt, you idiot? Who ever told you that you could work with men? Oh, I’m gonna have your job, shithead. I’m going downtown to talk to Mitch and Murray, I’m going to Lemkin. I don’t care who’s nephew you are, who you know, who’s dick you’re sucking on, you’re going out. I swear to you, you’re going. Anyone in this office lives on his wits. What you’re hired for is to help us. Does that seem clear to you? To help us, not to fuck us up. To help men who are going out there to try to earn a living, you fairy. You company man. I’ll tell you something else, I hope you ripped the joint off, I can tell our friend here a little something might help him to catch you. You wanna learn the first rule? You’d know if you spent a day in your life: you never open your mouth 'till you know what the shot is! You fucking child!
I’m a bad boy!
What’cha gonna do? What’cha gonna do when they come for you?
It just came to me all of a sudden. I was lying on my bunk this morning, thinking. And there wasn’t a breath of air. And all of a sudden, a funny thing happened. A little breeze came up, and I took a big, deep breath, and I said to myself “Pulver, boy, there’s women on that island!”
We might just make it. Did that thought ever cross your brain? Well, regardless, I would rather take my chance out there on the ocean than to stay here and die on this shithole island, spending the rest of my life talking…TO A GODDAMN VOLLEYBALL!
Forty years I’ve been at sea. A war at sea. A war with no battles, no monuments, only casualties. I widowed her the day I married her.
I got new kind of fish. He got no tail. He got pants on his dorsal fin. I think maybe he about 10 year old.
Back home we got a taxidermy man. He gonna have a heart attack when he see what I brung him.
I will pay one million dollars. Bring me the head of Alfredo Garcia!
You think I can’t take a hit?
Oh man, why don’t you fuckin’ stop it? Shit, this is too fuckin’ big for you, you know that? Who did the president, who killed Kennedy? Fuck, man! It’s a mystery! It’s a mystery wrapped in a riddle inside an enigma! The fuckin’ shooters don’t even know! Don’t you get it?
Jimmy had never asked me to do a hit before, and now he’s asking me to go down to Florida with Andy to make a hit. That’s when I knew I would never have come back from Florida alive.
Oh, sure, your name is John, and you’re just a hard-working, law-abiding citizen running a shithole bar where you got… no customers.
Is bad location.
“Two guys walk into a bar–”
“What type of bar?”
“Doesn’t matter. Two guys walk into a bar–”
“Of course it matters. Lee Strasberg preached specifics.”
“So the bartender says–”
“I’d like to know what kind of bar, too.”
“You realize the bar’s unimportant, right? The bar is just where the joke takes place. What’s important is the escalation building up to a surprising revelation, resulting in some kind of hilarity – which you’re depriving yourselves of by these mindless interruptions.”
“Fine. Be funny.”
“Thank you. Two guys walk into a bar–”
“You’re so short-sighted.”
“Short-sighted about what?”
“Nothing. Just some girl I’m interested in. Come on – two guys walk into a bar, and what?”
“…They get a drink. The end.”
Tonight, we will be partaking of a liquid repast as we wind our way up the Golden Mile. Commencing with an inaugural tankard in The First Post, then on to The Old Familiar, The Famous Cock, The Cross Hands, The Good Companions, The Trusty Servant, The Two-Headed Dog, The Mermaid, The Beehive, The King’s Head, and The Hole in the Wall for a measure of the same, all before the last bittersweet pint in that most fateful terminus, The World’s End. Leave a light on good lady, for though we may return with a twinkle in our eyes, we will be in truth blind - drunk!
Fat, drunk and stupid is no way to go through life, son.
Let me tell you something. When you’ve been cops this long, you are not fit for anything else. What are you gonna do, open a bar?
Forget this Judeo-Christian bullshit. The same people that taught us virtue are the very ones who’ve enslaved us, baby. We’ve had fun, and I know your dick gets hard for money, power, and women. So it doesn’t matter that you’re a cop. Let’s get in the van.
I’m a cop you idiot! I’m detective John Kimble!
This badge ain’t real. YOU ain’t real.