Layer Cake (2004)
Eddie Temple: You're born, you take shit. You get out in the world, you take more shit. You climb a little higher, you take less shit. Till one day you're up in the rarefied atmosphere and you've forgotten what shit even looks like. Welcome to the layer cake son.
XXXX: [over the phone] Dragan?
XXXX: I've got an idea... Why don't you come 'round for breakfast? I'll squeeze some orange juice and grind some coffee and we can talk about this like adults. How's that sound?
Dragan: Sounds very hospitable.
XXXX: Do you know where I live?
XXXX: Well, fuck off then.
XXXX: When I was born the world was a far simpler place. It was all just cops and robbers. But it wasn't for me. Then came the Summer of Love. Hasish and LSD arrived on the scene. There were villains locked away for twelve years for robbing a bank of ten grand, doing time with drippy hippies down six months for smuggling two million quid worth of puff. I mean work it out mate. We're in the wrong fucking game. Drugs. Changed. Everything. Always remember that one day all this drug monkey business will all be legal. They won't leave it to people like me. Not once they figure out how much money is in it. Not millions. Fucking BILLIONS. Recreational Drugs PLC: "Giving People What They Want." Good times today, stupor tomorrow. But this is now. So while prohibition lasts, make hay while the sun shines. I'm not a gangster. I'm a businessman whose commodity happens to be cocaine. I mean ten years ago a bit of charlie was for pop stars or a celebrities birthday bash. It was demonized by Daily Mail Readers getting drunk in naff wine bars. Now they're my biggest clients. This is Clarkie. Double first at Cambridge in industrial chemistry. Only he's got to pay off his student loans somehow. Today I only deal in Kilos. And, depending on which tariff you use will cost you 28 grand, or fifteen years in prison. Which is more than a rapist. C'est la vie. It is vital that we work to a few golden rules: Always works in small teams. Keep a low profile. Never deal with anyone who doesn't come recommended. I mean it's like selling anything: washing machines, hand made rugs, blow jobs, as long as you don't take the piss people will always come back for more. And that's not to say that we don't have that special kind of magic that turns two kilos into three. But never get too greedy. Know and respect your enemy! It is only very very stupid people who think the law is stupid. And avoid like the plague, loud attention seeking wannabe gangsters who are in it for the glory, to be a face, to be a name. They don't mean to fuck up. They just do. Oh, and forgive me for stating the obvious, but stay away from the end user. They're guaranteed to bring you trouble. As do guns. I hate guns. And violence. But, as some Roman general once said. If you want peace, prepare for war. Morty, and his assistant Terry watch my back. Morty learned to be cautious the hard way. He did ten years inside. He's my bridge to the criminal world. And he insures that the traffic is one way.
Eddie Temple: England. Typical. Even drug dealers don't work weekends.
Clarkie: The king is dead.
Clarkie: Long live the king.
[glasses are raised]
XXXX: Well I'm honored. But for me this is all over. I'm getting out. What was true then is true now. Have a plan. Stick to it. So I'm sure you must have lots to discuss... but I have no business being here. I've got someone to meet. Adios, amigos.
XXXX: [voiceover] Paul the Boatman. Kinky, The Duke. Slasher. Kilburn Jerry. Crazy Larry. Mr. Lucky. Troop. Jimmy. I don't want to add my name to that list. My name? If you knew that you'd be as clever as me.
Sidney: I'm sorry.
Dragan: [shooting near XXXX in the bushes after sniping Lucky] Don't piss in my pocket and tell me it's raining.
XXXX: A Roman general once said, "If you want peace, plan for war."
XXXX: I'm not a gangster, just a businessman. And my commodity happens to be cocaine.
XXXX: Always remember that one day all this drug monkey business will be legal. They won't leave it to people like me... not when they finally figure out how much money is to be made - not millions, fucking billions. Recreational drugs PLC - giving the people what they want... Good times today, Stupor tomorrow. But this is now, so until prohibition ends make hay whilst the sun shines.
XXXX: My name? If you knew that, you'd be as clever as me.
Clarkie: Where are we going, Morty?
Morty: Back to that boatyard. Somebody's about to get a fucking slap.
Terry: [pats Morty on the shoulder] Yes, Morty. About fucking time.
Gene: If you have to kill someone, never ever tell a living soul.
XXXX: That's a very expansive question.
Jimmy Price: Expansive?
Jimmy Price: Tell me son, are you a homosexual? The day was when only homosexuals used words like "expansive".
XXXX: Life is so fucking good I can taste it in my spit.
XXXX: There were villains, locked away for twelve years for robbing a bank of ten grand, doing time with drippy hippies who were doing twelve months for smuggling two million quid's worth of puff. I mean, work it out, mate. We're in the wrong fucking game.
Jimmy Price: Details, details. Things to do. Things to get done. Don't bother me with details, just tell me when they're done. Who said that, son?
XXXX: Winston Churchill?
Jimmy Price: Close. No, I said it. James Lionel Price.
Gene: [opens a case of guns] You're going to need one of these.
XXXX: Fuck me, Gene. I fuckin' hope not. Are you trying to scare the shit out of me? I mean, I fucking hate guns - Although that one is really pretty. What is that, Second World War?
Morty: Why did you keep the gun?
Gene: I know it sounds silly now, but it was my favorite.
Morty: You better not let the other guns know you have a favorite.
Eddie Temple: What the fuck is this? A vicar's tea party?
Gene: In those days, being black was worse than being Irish.
XXXX: It is vital that we work to a few golden rules. Always work in a small team. Keep a very low profile. Only deal with people who come recommended. And it's like selling anything else: washing machines, hand made shoes, blowjobs. As long as you don't take the piss people will always come back for more. And that is not to say we don't have that special kind of magic that makes two kilos into three. But never be too greedy.
XXXX: I'll treat this lunch like a last supper, feign interest in his nostalgic tales, and get out.
Tammy: [on phone] I was just rubbing the phone against my fanny. My, oh, my, it's fresh this morning. And look at my nipples, standing up like little soldiers. What is a poor girl to do?
XXXX: Everyone wants to walk through a door marked "private." Therefore, have a good reason to be affluent.
Shanks: DON'T... be giving it the big... fockin' innocent with me pal. Because I am NOT a fockin' prick.!
XXXX: When I was born, the world was a far simpler place. It was all just cops and robbers.
Morty: But let's just forget about all of that. Let's have a cup of tea, Mr. Hurst
[Morty spills a pot of tea over Freddie's head]
Paul the Boatman: [seeing Brian delirious after taking an ecstasy pill] What's with him?
Duke: [chuckling] He's just had one of these. These are super e's mate, we're gonna make millions!
Paul the Boatman: I don't care, this is my boatyard. Now, I want those pills and that fucking idiot out of here, I can't afford to get nicked!
Duke: Paul, Paul, calm down mate. What's the matter with you, I've got Gene coming down with a buyer tomorrow. You'll be in your whack. Here, chill, have a pill.
XXXX: The art of good business is being a good middleman. Putting people together
[XXXX quotes this again at the end of movie]
XXXX: I'm not a gangster. I'm a businessman whose commodity happens to be cocaine.
Gene: [to XXXX] This what being a gangster gets you. You're not in there 'cause I like you.
Morty: I'm beginning to feel left out.
Gene: Why? I seem to recall a friend of yours in intensive care after your little... reunion.
Shanks: You know what, I fuckin' enjoyed that brother.
Trevor: Just like the old days Shanks, nice bit of armed robbery.
Trevor: It's all about honour and respect with these head-banging nationalist outfits.
Morty: What's happening? You been away? Yeah! Ten fucking years!
Duke's Girlfriend: You know what? I'm thinking of getting the law on you.
Duke: She didn't mean that!
Duke's Girlfriend: Yes, I swear to God the bloody law!
[Shot in the head]
Duke: [Shot in the chest]
Gene: Hey, these pills are going to be a nice catch for my retirement fund. So don't fuck up again, or you'll wish Dragon had shot you between the eyes.
Gene: Good luck.
Morty: Gene, let's listen to this shit! If he's lying, we'll both fucking kill him.