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Quotes for
Smith (Character)
from Shoot 'Em Up (2007)

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Shoot 'Em Up (2007)
DQ: Who are you?
Mr. Smith: I'm a British nanny, and I'm dangerous.

[repeated line]
Mr. Smith: You know what I hate?

[last lines]
Mr. Smith: You know what I hate?
Diner Holdup Leader: [gives Smith the middle finger] Shut up and sit on this, asshole!
Diner Hood with Earring: That's right! You heard him...
[the Earring Hood advances on Smith with his gun. Smith kicks it into the air, catches it on the end of a carrot, and uses it to blow off the Leader's middle finger, the second hood's earring, and the third hood's disgustingly dirty foot]

Mr. Smith: Do you know what I hate?
Baby's Mother: [in pain] No!
Mr. Smith: I hate these forty-year-old jack-holes wearing ponytails. That pony tail doesn't make you look hip, young, or cool.
[Smith shoots a ponytail henchmen in the head]

Mr. Hertz: Bravo, Mr. Hero. Bravo.
Mr. Smith: Why are you trying to kill this woman?
[Hertz laughs]
Mr. Smith: Something funny?
Mr. Hertz: Well, I was just remembering a limerick. "There once was a woman who was quite begat. She had three babies named Nat, Pat, and Tat. She said it was fun in the breeding, but found it was hell in the feeding, when she saw there was no tit for Tat." You have caused me no end of trouble, but now I shall return the favor. Tit for tat, right?

Mr. Smith: You want to know the difference between this luxury car and a porcupine?
DQ: I give up.
Mr. Smith: With the car, the prick's on the inside.

DQ: You are the angriest man in the world!
Mr. Smith: If I remember right, you used to like it like that.

Mr. Smith: I hate it when parents hit their children.
Woman in Museum: Let go of my arm!
Mr. Smith: Not until you stop hitting your kid.
Woman in Museum: I will discipline my child as I see fit.
Mr. Smith: How would you like it if I spank you?
[Smith spanks the mother]
Mr. Smith: See? It doesn't feel so good, does it?

Mr. Smith: [after making Hammerson shoot himself] Aren't guns just fucking great, Hammerson?

Mr. Hertz: Oh, yes-siree-Bob, it certainly has been a pleasure. But before we part ways, tell me one thing: I am dead on about who you are, right?
Mr. Smith: Say that again?
Mr. Hertz: I said, I am dead...
Mr. Smith: [interrupting him] Stop. That part of it you got right.

Mr. Smith: [after ramming a carrot through the back of a killer's head] Eat your vegetables.

Mr. Smith: [after a shootout with several men, and shooting out letters of a neon sign so that all that's left says "FUK U."] Fuck you, ya fucking fuckers.

Mr. Smith: [after being propelled from his car into a van and shooting all occupants inside] So much for wearing your seatbelt.

Pawnshop Owner: You wanna buy bullets with food stamps?
Mr. Smith: [shrugging] It's just as good as cash.

[DQ has just had a quickie with a passing john to raise some quick cash]
DQ: To buy something for the baby.
Mr. Smith: Something for the baby?
[back in the pawnshop, she wraps Baby Oliver in a bulletproof vest]
DQ: A bulletproof vest is better than a crib.
Mr. Smith: I hate to think what you'd do to get him into the right school.

Mr. Smith: [after killing several men while at the same time having sex with DQ] Talk about shooting your load.

Mr. Smith: [to presidential candidate Senator Rutledge] Let me give you a piece of advice. Never trust the people who stand to profit, plain and simple. They're the bad guys.

Lone Man: You know we were never really trying to kill you. We only wanted to scare you into surrendering.
Mr. Smith: Well, that's one way to explain why you can't shoot straight.

Mr. Smith: I move my finger one inch to use my turn signal. Why are these assholes so lazy they can't move their finger one fucking measly inch to drive more safely? You wanna know why?
DQ: Not particularly.
Mr. Smith: Because these rich bastards have to be callous and inconsiderate in the first place to make all that money, so when they get on the road, they can't help themselves. They've gotta be callous and inconsiderate drivers too. It's in their nature.

Mr. Smith: Hey. Do you notice that?
DQ: Notice what?
Mr. Smith: Look.
[flicks channels on TV]
Mr. Smith: Lame-ass politician rants about gun control, he cries.
[flicks again]
Mr. Smith: Switch to this channel with this heavy metal music... he shuts up. That's so weird.

Mr. Hertz: [after telling Smith his gun is empty] And you won't be getting it up with that gun you took off my man. No, you see, like my weapon, it also has the thumbprint safety device!
Mr. Smith: Oh, really?
[holds up the thug's severed hand]
Mr. Smith: Wanna bet?
[Hertz grabs a shard of glass and charges, screaming. Smith fits the severed hand's thumb onto the pistol grip, and shoots Hertz in the chest]
Mr. Smith: Nothing like a good hand-job.

Mr. Smith: [lone man walks out of bathroom stall] What were you doing in there so long?
Lone Man: [rubbing rag on his .44 magnum] Cleaning my gun.
Mr. Smith: [raises eye-brow] Really?

DQ: [DQ is breastfeeding another man] Wait your turn, Smith, there's plenty to go around.
Mr. Smith: Not for me, thanks. I'm lactose intolerant.

DQ: Why don't you take the baby to the police?
Mr. Smith: I can't go to the police.
DQ: Why not?
Mr. Smith: I'm the Unabomber.
DQ: They caught the Unabomber.
Mr. Smith: That's what they think.

Mr. Smith: This is an M-24 tank. You are safe from all gunfire and most explosives.

Mr. Smith: So what do you think of the 2nd Amendment now?
Coffee-Sipping Guard: Fuck you!

Mr. Smith: You know what I really hate?
[Smith shoots Hertz in the the chest]
Mr. Smith: What I really hate, is a pussy with a gun in his hand.

Mr. Smith: [after biting into a carrot and pointing a gun at Hertz] What's up, doc?
Mr. Hertz: Ooh, you're a wascally wabbit.
[points his gun at Smith]
Mr. Hertz: But you're not wascally enough.
Mr. Smith: Yeah? That's a six-shooter. I just counted six shots. You've blown your load.

Mr. Hertz: Hey, who trained you? Hmm? NSA, Black Ops, CIA, the Army? Well whoever, it's seems you haven't lost your aim, champ.
Mr. Smith: If you think that's good you should see me spell my name in the snow.
Mr. Hertz: [laughs] Hey you know my boss here thinks that you're the Lone Ranger or something. But I believe I have a better idea about who you are. I found out how your wife and son where killed. My god, what a tragedy. Some guy walks into a burger joint. He starts shooting up the place. Oh my god, what a shame that your wife and son were there, eating their chicken nuggets.
[Smith is silent in shock]
Mr. Hertz: What's the matter, you don't like that story? Well then why don't you tell me one, hmm? Children's story, please. Oh, I know, tell me my favorite. Yeah, tell me the one about the baby.
Mr. Smith: Maybe later, when I put you to sleep.

Mr. Smith: [after coming across a room full of semen samples] Watch where you step. The ice cream is melting.
DQ: What?
Mr. Smith: I thought donor sperm was your department.

[as DQ rants in Italian at Smith]
Mr. Smith: I don't understand a word you're going on about, but I know exactly what you're saying and I refuse to apologize.

Mr. Smith: Fuck you, ya fuckin' fuckers.