[
Confessing to his wife that he's a hitman]
Jack:
So you see, I'm not out there committing adultery. I'm out there committing murder.
Betty:
Oh, thank God!
[
Donald and Jack in a shoot-out to the death]
Donald:
Jaaaack?
Jack:
Yeah?
Donald:
Time out, OK?
Jack:
Time out?
Donald:
Time out.
Jack:
What do you mean, 'time out?'
Donald:
You're not gonna believe this. I was in a hurry when I left the cabin this morning, and, well, silly me, I got the wrong bullets.
Donald:
You shot my gun god damn it! You're not supposed to shoot a person's gun! Oh, now that pisses me off! You know how much one of these cost?
Donald Quinelle:
What kind of man gives cigarettes to trees?
Sonny Paluso:
You think Wes is God, don't you.
Donald Quinelle:
No, not God, Just an ordinary man. Maybe a little ahead of his time, but just an ordinary man.
Sonny Paluso:
Wes is an asshole.
Donald Quinelle:
Blasphemy! Oh, you'll smoke a turd in hell for that!
Donald Quinelle:
OK, Mr. Honky Mo-Fo... take your best shot!
Jack:
I was raised a strict Southern Baptist. I place a high value on human life... $20,000 minimum.
Donald Quinelle:
I'm sorry I'm gonna have to blow a large hole in your skivvy heart.
Donald:
[
dressed in a face-obscuring, hooded, fur-lined parka] I feel like a gynecologist for a grizzly bear.
Donald:
Well, I was nervous.
Jack:
What about me?
Donald:
Oh, come off it, man. You're so cool, you piss ice cubes.
Jack:
It's a hereditary thing in my family, y'know. Uhh, nerves, colitis, y'know.
Donald:
Colitis? Y'know, that must be horrible being a professional killer with colitis.
Jack:
Yeah, that's what...
Donald:
They hear you coming, don't they?
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