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Vernon: The suspense is killing me, what did Steven do?
Harry: That fucking junkie came on to my cousin last night at the Harlequins. And when she wouldn't suck his fucking dick, he bottled her.
Justine: You've got to be kidding me!
Vernon: What!
Harry: I'm serious as fucking cancer. She's scarred, man, permanently, and she's 17.
Vernon: Hang on, Harry. Is this true, Gordon?
Gordon: It's unfortunate, but it's true. The place erupted like fucking Vesuvius, man. There's not a stick of furniture left in the place. For real.
Martin: If you were to walk into Harlequins tomorrow night with his head on a fuckin' stick, you'd be a hero, man.
Ord: Why would you even say that, why would you say that?
Vernon: What are you doing? You're just making it worse. Everybody, take a chill pill, okay? Just calm the fuck down.
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Vernon: Now listen here. We'd like to leave with our money, and I'm sure you boys would like to leave with the weapons. Okay? This is not good for business.
Chris: Yeah well, bringing AR-70s to an M-16 deal is not good for business.
Justine: Neither is bringing a sex pest.
Tom Davis
Extended Reading
