Love and a Bullet (2002)
Damien Wiles: [voice in Bishop's telephone] Garrett Hotel, front desk in one half hour.
Malik Bishop: Mm-mm. No, I don't work on holidays.
Damien Wiles: It says here you work on Sundays *and* holidays. I got it right here.
Malik Bishop: No, shoot, Man, get Sala. He works on Sundays *and* holidays.
Damien Wiles: A special two-hour "Homicide" is coming on tonight. He won't come.
Malik Bishop: Listen, f*** that. Get the Milkman. He don't even celebrate holidays.
Damien Wiles: He's in D.C.
Malik Bishop: D.C.? Everybody flying to D.C... No, man, how am I gonna get down to some 'telly? I got greens on right now.
Damien Wiles: Holiday pay.
Malik Bishop: [Voiceover, to the audience] Well, after a little arm-twisting, I decided to do it. Hell, holiday pay seemed pretty good to me, 'specially since I was planning to disappear after this job. A little extra padding in the nest egg wouldn't hurt nobody.
Malik Bishop: [narrating] My name is Malik Bishop and I'm a professional hitman. Mm-hmm. See up until a month ago I was the hardest, coldest bastard to screw a silencer on a pistol. Now you're probably thinking, what kind of moral existence is that... professional hitman? Well, the way I see it the world is full of people that quite frankly we all could do without. Some argue that I'm one of those people. But I digress. I'm what you call a custodian of anthropoligical affairs, meaning I kill motherfuckers that are worthless.
Malik Bishop: [narrating after O.G. Buddy cusses out their boss Damien] Damien was definitely one rib short of a slab. Change was definitely in the air: change for Buddy, change for Damien and change for me. That afternoon I watched Buddy self-destruct just like I watched my father self-destruct. Buddy knew that going up against Damien was like blowing your own brains out. Damien was a crazy motherfucker, that's for sure. Suddenly, the things that Buddy talked about before, made sense: this was a shitty job.
Malik Bishop: [narrating] When I was ten, my father put a bullet in my mother's heart, rattled off some cryptic shit about the rent bein' due, and then he put a slug in his own head. With that level of Jackson-family-on-crack-type dysfunction, it's no wonder I turned out the way I did.
Malik Bishop: [after killing Cynda] Enjoy heaven, baby, 'cause I'm going straight to hell.
Malik Bishop: [to Hylene] I think you're trying to seduce me, Mrs. Robinson.
Buddy: [mocking Damien's orders] I want you to kill the Pope, but don't upset the Catholics.
Buddy: [walking away after killing a State witness and six Federal agents] C'mon. Let's go get us a cappuccino.
Malik Bishop: Now, I don't generally celebrate Thanksgiving in the traditional sense. Personally, I feel like the Indians should have gotten their hands on some muskets and busted some caps in those non-taxpaying, disease-carrying, land-stealing Pilgrims.
Malik Bishop: So, this is what it all comes down to, huh? Me, about to put a slug into a woman whose only crime was being loved by a nut-case gangster, wanna-be-white-Martin-Luther-King-on-crack. And now, all those feelings was coming out strange and foreign, forcing their way out of me like a bad burrito or something.
Damien Wiles: [explaining that he is a benefactor to Black people, because he employs them as assassins] I've been nothing but a friend to you and your people.
Damien Wiles: ["America, The Beautiful" plays softly in background, with gradual crescendo throughout] Let me tell you something. There are no colors around here, Mister. No color lines.
[referring to Dr. Martin Luther King Jr]
Damien Wiles: I'm a believer in the teachings of your great leader, that a man should be judged by his character and not by his color. I take black kids off the streets, I clean 'em up, I give 'em a job.
Damien Wiles: [continuing his anti-racism speech and references to Dr. King] I, like your leader, I have a dream. And I dream that Blacks and Whites and Reds and Yellows will be brought together hand in hand as one. And under my divine guidance, we will eliminate racism from this great country of ours. And any bigot who wants to stand in the way of racial harmony gets so much lead that their heads will look like day-old pizza. And we'll descend from the mountain tops into the promised land in peace and harmony... with me in control.
[final strains of "America, The Beautiful"]
Damien Wiles: When will the racism end?
Malik Bishop: [Hylene puts a gun to his head, then shows him that she is pregnant] You're damn belly's bigger than your gun. I know you ain't doing hits in this condition.
Hylene: You try waking up with morning sickness every day and see if you don't feel like blowing somebody's head off.