Hard Eight (1996)
Sydney: You know the first thing they should've taught you at hooker school? You get the money up front!
Sydney: [to Jimmy] I have the money to give you right now, in this moment. I will give you all that I have. Maybe before you were gonna kill me. Maybe. I don't know. I know John, and I love him like he was my own child. But I can tell you this: I don't want to die. I killed his father. I can tell you what it was. This is not an excuse. I'm not begging for clemency. All that matters, I do not wish to sacrifice my life for John's well-being. But I will sacrifice this money for mine because you have asked me. Because after this, I will have done all I can for John and for myself. I'm going to ask you with all the heart and sincerety that I have, please do not put a bullet in me. And, please, don't tell John what I've done. I trust that once I gave you this money, you and I will take separate paths and that this negotiation will settle everything. That is my hope. I don't wanna die.
Jimmy: What I mean - what I believe... is that you killed his father... like the stories I heard go. Now, if somebody killed my father... I would feel the need to do something. The stories I heard - you know, stories get around - is that you used to be a hard-ass. You were a hard-ass and you took his dad out, Sydney. So you think - what? You can just walk through this life... without being punished for it? Shit, man. I know all those guys you know. Floyd Gondolli, Jimmy Gator, Mumbles O'Malley. They like to sit around in Clifton's and talk, talk, talk. They love to tell stories. You can sit there and look at me sideways all you want. You probably think I'm some kind of asshole or something... but I'm not a killer... like you. You walk around like you're Mr. Cool, Mr. Wisdom... but you're not. You're just some old hood. The other night in the bar, you asking me a question... like do I do parking lot security? Well, the answer is no! I'm trusted security inside the casino. I'm trusted with security, and I don't fuck it up.
Sydney: Good that you have such a sturdy sense of responsibility.
Jimmy: Don't! Don't! Don't fuckin' do that! You understand? I can see right through that shit! You look at me as some idiot, huh? I know you do. I know you. You old guys, you old hoods... you think you're so fuckin' above it... so high and mighty. What am I to you? Some loser? Not with a gun in my hand. Not with the facts I know. Bottom line, Sydney. No matter how hard you try... you're not his father.
Sydney: [at the cocktail lounge] Tell me something. Are you required to flirt, to behave as you do toward that table of men over there? Maybe... it's some part of your job?
Clementine: Uh, they don't say to do it.
Sydney: But if you don't?
Clementine: Well, then I get questioned, like: "Why were so rude to them?", and, I mean, I can't talk back. I can't tell them to fuck off and leave me alone.
Sydney: As a rule?
Clementine: I'd also lose the tip.
John Finnegan: I will fuck you up if you fuck with me, ok? I know three kinds of Karate: Jujitsu, Aikido, and regular Karate.
Sydney: I have a friend in Los Angeles. Someone... maybe someone who can help. I can make a call for you, tell him you're a friend, so on and so forth, and we can work this thing out here. I think if you need help paying for your mother's funeral, we can work it out. I want you to see that my reasons for doing this are not selfish, only this: I'd hope that you would do the same for me.
John Finnegan: I would. Thank you.
Sydney: [shakes John's hand] It's always good to meet a new friend. I'll see you later.
Sydney: [John has called Sydney to his hotel room asking for help. Sydney knocks, John answers from behind the closed door] John?
Sydney: Yeah. Open up.
John Finnegan: ...everything cool?
Sydney: What? Yeah, everything's cool. Are you alright?
John Finnegan: I'm fine.
Sydney: You gonna open the door?
John Finnegan: I said on the phone, you know... it's kinda screwed up.
Sydney: Yeah, so? Open the door, let's see what's going on.
John Finnegan: ...you promise you'll help me?
Sydney: [growing exasperated] John, it's cold out here, open the door.
John Finnegan: ...is everything cool?
Sydney: John, open the goddamn door, will ya?
Sydney: [John finally unlocks and opens the door; Sydney enters] Now what's going on, John?
John Finnegan: Just - shut the door.
[the door is closed]
Sydney: Why are the lights out?
John Finnegan: Okay, Sid?
Sydney: Okay I'm not gonna...
John Finnegan: -let's just leave them off for a second...
Sydney: -I'm not gonna stand here with the lights out.
[Sydney flips the light on]
John Finnegan: Okay now, you promised you'd help me.
Sydney: ...what is this, John?
John Finnegan: I'm sorry, Sid.
Sydney: John, what is this? Who is this man?
John Finnegan: He's uh... he's a hostage.