Blood Simple. (1984)
Private Detective Visser: [narrating] The world is full o' complainers. An' the fact is, nothin' comes with a guarantee. Now I don't care if you're the pope of Rome, President of the United States or Man of the Year; somethin' can all go wrong. Now go on ahead, y'know, complain, tell your problems to your neighbor, ask for help, 'n watch him fly. Now, in Russia, they got it mapped out so that everyone pulls for everyone else... that's the theory, anyway. But what I know about is Texas, an' down here... you're on your own.
Ray: Never point a gun at anyone, unless you mean to shoot him And if you shoot him, you better make sure he's dead. Because if he ain't dead, he's gonna get up and try to kill you. That's the only thing they taught us in the service that's worth a god damn.
Marty: I got a job for you.
Private Detective Visser: Uh, well, if the pay's right, and it's legal, I'll do it.
Marty: It's not strictly legal.
Private Detective Visser: [Thinks for a second] Well, if the pay's right, I'll do it.
Abby: [after shooting Visser] I'm not afraid o' you, Marty.
Private Detective Visser: [laughing hysterically] Well, ma'am, if I see him, I'll sure give him the message.
Private Detective Visser: You know, you know, a friend of mine a while back broke his hand and put it in a cast. Very next day, he falls, protects his bad hand, and he breaks his good one. So he breaks it too, you know. So, now he's got two busted flippers. So, I says to him: "Creighton," I says. "I hope your wife really loves you, because for the next five weeks, you can't even wipe your own god damn ass."
Private Detective Visser: That's the test, ain't it? Test of true love.
Private Detective Visser: Gimme a call whenever you wanna cut off my head. I can always crawl around without it.
[Visser has just given Marty some bad news]
Marty: You know... in Greece, they would cut off the head of the messenger that brought the bad news.
Private Detective Visser: Now that don't make much sense.
Marty: No. It made them feel better.
Private Detective Visser: Well first off, Julian, I don't know what the story is in Greece but in this state we got very definite laws about that. Second place I ain't a messenger, I'm a private investigator. And third place - and most important - it ain't such bad news. I mean you thought he was a colored. You're always assumin' the worst.
Marty: [after Visser agrees to kill Abby and Ray for $10,000] I'll take care of the money, you just make sure those bodies aren't found...
[starts to turn away, then turns back]
Marty: ... there's a big incinerator in back of my place.
Private Detective Visser: [after Marty walks away] Jeeee-sus, you are disgustin'.
Meurice: Howdy stranger.
Ray: Meurice. Sorry I didn't show last night.
Meurice: Wasn't too busy. You missed a good one, though. This white guy walks in about one o'clock, asks if we have a discount for alcoholics... I tell him to get lost, but Marty's sitting here listening and I can tell he's thinking that maybe it ain't such a bad idea.
Abby: I said, "Marty, how come you're anal, and *I* gotta go to the psychiatrist?"
Ray: What'd he say?
Abby: Nothing. He's like you, he doesn't say much.
Abby: Except when he doesn't say things, they're usually nasty. When you don't, they're usually nice.
[Marty gives Visser his money]
Marty: Count it, and go.
Private Detective Visser: Naw, I trust you.
[Visser shoots Marty]
Marty: [to Ray, out in back of the bar] You a fuckin' marriage counselor? What are you smilin' at? I'm funny? Right? I'm an asshole? No, no, no, no, no, no. That's not what's funny. What's funny is *her*. What's funny is, that I had you two followed, because if it's not you she's sleeping with, it's someone else. And what's really gonna be funny, is when she gives you that innocent look and says, "I don't know what you're talkin' about, Ray, I ain't done anything funny" But the funniest thing to *me*, right now, is that you think that she came back here for *you*. That's what's fuckin' funny!
Abby: I don't know what you're talkin' about. I mean, what are you talking about? I haven't done anything funny.
Private Detective Visser: [to Marty] Who looks stupid now?
Meurice: Hey, look, Ray. Personally I don't give a shit, you know. Look, man, I know Marty's a hard-on but you gotta do something. Say you're sorry. Give the money back. Get the fuck outta here or something. Shit. Hey, look, man, it's very humiliating, preachin' about this bull shit. But, I'm not laughin', Ray Bob, so you know it's no fucking joke.
Abby: He took me to a psychiatrist one time, to calm me down... the psychiatrist said I was the healthiest person he'd ever talked to, so Marty fired him.
Ray: I don't think you can fire a psychiatrist, 'zactly.
Abby: Well I never saw him again, I can tell you that.
Strip-Bar Exhorter: And remember, gentlemen, we're always here, two to two, A.M. to P.M., three hundred and sixty-four days and Christmas, God willing and the creek don't rise.
Abby: He gave me a little pearl-handled .38 for our first anniversary.
Abby: Figured I'd better leave before I used it on him. I don't know how you can stand him.
Ray: Well, I'm only an employee, I ain't married to him.
Meurice: Marty. Thought you were dead. You goin' home?
Marty: No. I'm staying right here in hell.
Meurice: Kind of a bleak point of view there, isn't it, Marty?
Marty: Meurice... I don't want the asshole near my money. And I don't want him in the bar.
Meurice: [pause] We get a lotta assholes in here, Marty.
Private Detective Visser: [about a photo of Ray and Abby] I know a place you can get that framed.
Marty: What did you take these for?
Private Detective Visser: What do you mean? Just doin' my job.
Marty: You called me, I knew they were there, so what do I need these for?
Private Detective Visser: Well, I don't know... Call it a fringe benefit.
Marty: How long did you watch her?
Private Detective Visser: Most of the night... They'd just rest a few minutes and then get started again. Quite something.
[grabbing Abby from behind after breaking into Ray's house]
Marty: Lover boy really oughta lock his door. Lotta nuts out there.
Marty: [looking at a doctored photo of Ray and Abby] Dead?
Private Detective Visser: So it would seem.
Ray: You're bad.
Ray: I said you're bad.
Abby: [long pause, then smiles] You're bad too.
Ray: We're both bad.
Marty: Lover-boy oughta lock his door. I love you... That's a stupid thing to say, right?
Abby: I... I love you too.
Marty: [smiling] No. You're just saying that because you're scared. You left your weapon behind... He'll kill you too.
Ray: Listen, I-I ain't a marriage counselor. I don't know what goes on. I don't want to know. But, I like you. I always liked you.
Abby: How come you offered to drive me in this mess?
Ray: I told you, I like you.
Abby: I never knew that.
Ray: Well, now you do.
Ray: Who was it?
Ray: On the phone? Was it, was it for you?
Abby: I don't know. He didn't say anything.
Ray: How'd you know it was a he?
Abby: You got a girl? Am I screwin' somethin' up by bein' here?
Ray: No. Am I?
Ray: I'd liked to have seen his face when he found the dead end.
Private Detective Visser: Stick your finger up the wrong person's ass?
Drunk Teenager: Hey mister, how'd you break your pussy finger?
Private Detective Visser: She saw me rollin' a cigarette and thought it was marijuana. Thought I was a swinger, I guess.
Marty: I'll give you 10,000 dollars.
Private Detective Visser: Now I... do a murder. Two murders. Trust you not to go simple on me and do something stupid. I mean, really stupid. Now, why should I trust you?
Marty: For the money.
Private Detective Visser: For money. Yeah, that's a right smart of money. In Russia, they make only 50 cent a day.
Marty: What'd you do with the bodies?
Private Detective Visser: It's taken care of. The less you know about it, the better.
Private Detective Visser: How did you cover the money?
Marty: It's been taken care of. And the less you know about it, the better.
Helene Trend: [answering machine message] Hi Meurice, this is Helene, Helene Trend, you know. And I'm calling cause I want to know just what the hell that remark you made about Sylvia is supposed to mean? She said you're full of shit! And, frankly, I believe her. And, hey, I love you to, sure. Anyway, you better call me soon, because I'm going to South America tonight, you know, Uruguay.
Meurice: JEEEE-zus, I've got a hangover...
[picks up a bottle of liquor]
Meurice: ... you wanta drink?
Abby: [referring to Marty] Fact is... he's ANAL, Ray!
Abby: [pointing to her forehead] In HERE... Abby, in HERE... I'm anal.
Ray: Well, I'll be damned.
Abby: I couldn't believe it myself.