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: Tell me you got smart and that you killed that lying bitch. Jane Smith
: This lying bitch? Eddie
: Guess that was just wishful thinking.
: Tempting but I don't get out of bed for less than half a million dollars.
: This broad is not your wife, she's the enemy. John Smith
: She tried to kill me. Eddie
: They all try to kill you. Slowly, painfully, cripplingly, and then wham. They hurt you. How you going to handle it? John Smith
: [grabs assault rifle
] I'm going to borrow this. Eddie
: I like where your head's at, man.
: Eddie? Eddie
] Mom! We are on high alert here. I almost killed you right then! You do not even realize! Mom #1
] Never mind.
: I live with my mom because I choose to. She's the only woman I've ever trusted.
: Did you get a look at him? John Smith
: Little thing. Buck ten, buck fifteen tops. Eddie
: Maybe he was Filipino! John Smith
: I'm not even sure it was a him. Eddie
: You saying you had your ass handed to you by some girl? John Smith
: I think so. A pro.
: Are you saying you had your ass handed to you by some girl? John Smith
: I think so.
: What's new? Eddie
: Same old. People need killing.
: Did you get any other details on her besides her weight class? John Smith
: [mumbles while chewing food
] Laptop Eddie
: I'm sorry? You're in the whole zone right now- I'm having a hard time talkin' to ya. John Smith
: [swallows and says louder
] Laptop! Eddie
: OK. Laptop.
: [at the diner
] Well this shouldn't be that difficult, I mean how many chicks are hitters out there? Ya know what I mean? Breakfast Diner Waitress
: You guys want any dessert? Eddie
: What do ya have honey? Breakfast Diner Waitress
: Ice cream... Eddie
: Ice cream? That sounds delicious, what flavors d'ya have? Breakfast Diner Waitress
: Chocolate and Vanilla... Eddie
: I don't like either of those, separately, but maybe mixed together, that could be... a nice lil dish, you know what I mean? And not just a little pink spoon, a like the whole sundae...
[winks to the waitress
] Breakfast Diner Waitress
: Could be arranged...
: Could be arranged, d'ya hear that? Like to have her kick my ass... d'ya know what I mean?
: You live with your mother. Eddie
] Why would you bring her into this, she happens to be a first class lady!
: You gotta take this bitch out! John Smith
: Don't tell me how to handle my wife.
[on living with his mother
: She cooks and cleans. And *I'm* the dummy?