Street Kings (2008)
Detective Cosmo Santos: [to Ludlow] How can you shoot a guy taking a dump? I mean, seriously, that's sacred. That's like shooting a man in church.
Thug Kim: Konnichiwa is Japanese. It's insultin' to Koreans.
Tom Ludlow: How am I supposed to tell if you can't?
Thug Kim: Fuck's that supposed to mean, white boy?
Tom Ludlow: It means you got eyes like apostrophes, you dress white, talk black, and drive Jew. So how am I supposed to know what kind of zipperhead dog-munching dink you are if you don't?
Boss Kim: Yo. D'you know who the fuck we are?
Tom Ludlow: Yeah. You're a couple panheads buyin' a machine gun out of a trunk.
Captain James Biggs: I came as soon as you called.
Tom Ludlow: I guess you were first on scene.
Captain James Biggs: No, you were. Looks like Jack's friends got greedy, came after the money.
Tom Ludlow: Is that what it looks like?
Captain James Biggs: Mmhmmm.
Tom Ludlow: This your plan, captain? Just sit back and let us all kill each other?
Captain James Biggs: You were the plan. No one else could touch him. Once your eyes were opened, there was no other outcome. Decisions were made, Tom, by powerful men with powerful secrets. They were afraid of Jack. They asked me to help. One day, you will pass the chief in the hall and he will give you a nod. And you will know why. Because you were right, Tom. We do need you.
Grace Garcia: I'm sorry. You tried to save him. You did your best.
Tom Ludlow: My best? I was curled up in a ball while the guy's shot. We should've dumped those guys.
Grace Garcia: How can they just wave a pen and change what happens? Just like that?
Tom Ludlow: We're the police. We can do whatever the hell we want. It doesn't matter what happens; it's how we write it up.
Grace Garcia: What about the truth?
Tom Ludlow: What about it?
Grace Garcia: You have to honor him, your friend.
Tom Ludlow: Honor him. I was gonna knock him out and he thought I was gonna kill him. Prick.
Grace Garcia: Don't turn your back on him. Good can come from bad.
Tom Ludlow: My world... the real world... bad breeds more bad, Grace.
Tom Ludlow: What do they call you?
Quicks: They call me fucking Quicks, man.
Tom Ludlow: Quicks? Not quick enough.
Detective Terrence Washington: If it ain't L.A.'s deadliest white boy.
Tom Ludlow: Aren't you on the wrong side of the yellow tape?
Detective Terrence Washington: Congrats on four more notches for your gun belt. I'll be praying for the families of your victims.
Tom Ludlow: They're called suspects. The victims are the fourteen-year-old schoolgirls the suspects kept in a cage and sold to chickenhawks to poke, prod, and put on the Internet. Suspects, Washington. Suspects.
Detective Terrence Washington: As evil as those men were, they had a right to trial. There's gonna be some blowback from the Korean community on this one.
Tom Ludlow: Now that you're all militant, why don't you just say it? You think I'm a racist.
Detective Terrence Washington: You have another explanation?
Tom Ludlow: No I don't. Because if I roll and determine the suspects are black, yellow or brown, I'll blow 'em out of their socks. But if they're white, I'll give 'em a ride home. You know why? 'Cause I'm a racist. Fuck you.
Detective Terrence Washington: Man, I would give my right arm to have that shit on tape.
Tom Ludlow: What happened to you, Terrence? We used to be brothers.
Captain Jack Wander: [after Ludlow tears down his wall] This is my power. This is my crown. I'm the king of secrets, Tom. I know which city councilmen is doing lines. I know who likes boys, I know who's selling contracts, I know who beat his wife. I own them, even the chief. He's in my pocket, Tom. How do you think I've been able to protect you all these years? What do you think is it you're doing? All these missions. How do you think you're able to touch the untouchables? I'm going to be chief. I will be chief! I will be mayor! This is our world, Tom! So let's take it!
Tom Ludlow: Is that why you put a hit on Washington? Why you tried to kill me? So you can keep stuffing money in your wall?
Captain Jack Wander: But this is our money. The unit's. Who do you think paid for Silky's defense, through all those law suits? Who's going to pay for your retirement? I'm just correcting a flaw in the system, Tom. This is about cops helping cops. And if a teacher, or a fireman, could do it, they would do it too.
Tom Ludlow: What happened to just locking up bad people?
Captain Jack Wander: We're all bad, Tom.
Tom Ludlow: You were my best friend.
Captain Jack Wander: You were family.
Tom Ludlow: [to Discant] This thing you want that you think you want, you don't want.
Captain James Biggs: Doesn't it bother you that there are two cop killers out there?
Boss Kim: Yo dawg.
Tom Ludlow: Konnichiwa.
Boss Kim: What?
Tom Ludlow: Konnichiwa. Konnichiwa. It means what's up. So what the fuck's up?
Thug Kim: [upon seeing a huge gun in Ludlow's trunk] The fuck is this? We said a machine gun.
Tom Ludlow: It is a machine gun.
Boss Kim: The kind you can carry.
Captain Jack Wander: You like Tom, don't you? I saw the way you watched him when he came in. That's why you follow him around. You want him to give you a blowjob, like that hooker that I caught you with when we were sergeants, remember?
Captain James Biggs: Shut up, Jack!
Captain Jack Wander: Does your wife know that you use prostitutes, Jimmy?
Captain James Biggs: It was the best head I ever had. And what about you, Jack? You always found it hard to keep your prick out of the ghetto. It's a two-way street, buddy. You can't ride the tiger forever. You get the hell out of my office.
Captain Jack Wander: Do the department a favor and wash your mouth out with buckshot.
Tom Ludlow: I'm from Vice Special.
Pathologist: Tom Ludlow. I know who you are. I handled your wife's autopsy.
Tom Ludlow: That was you?
Pathologist: Mmhmm. The asshole, remember?
Tom Ludlow: Right. The guy who washed away all the hair and fiber evidence. The guy who wouldn't do a vaginal swab. The guy who left me with nothing to go on.
Pathologist: It's not my job to investigate adultery.
Tom Ludlow: [while speeding through streets] You married, Diskant?
Detective Paul Diskant: Engaged. And I'd like to see her again.
Tom Ludlow: [holding disc] I wanted you to have this.
Linda Washington: And that is?
Tom Ludlow: It's the video of your husband's murder. It shows everything.
Linda Washington: Why are you doing this?
Tom Ludlow: Because I know how not knowing hurts. When I lost my wife, she was with another man. She had a blood clot in her brain and it burst. The bastard dumped her outside the hospital, and she died alone on the sidewalk. Linda, I'm sorry for wanting to hurt Terrance, and I'm sorry for your loss. I want you to know he didn't die alone. And that the men who killed him are going to pay.
Linda Washington: That won't bring him back. And that won't bring your wife back.
Tom Ludlow: I don't care.
Linda Washington: Not in my name. Please, not in my name. That doesn't wash away blood.
Captain James Biggs: Back on the night watch, Tom? You two can be seen all over town. Tom, you really think I was going to nothing about you?
Tom Ludlow: If you're going to do something, do it now. I know you want my scalp nailed to your wall, but then who's going to go in where the law won't? You Captain? You? You gonna clean up the needles and baby parts? No. You need me, and my company of men. You hate me, but you need me.
Captain James Biggs: Ludlow, maybe you're right. Maybe we do need you. But goddamn if you don't need me, son.
[Ludlow starts to walk away]
Captain James Biggs: Hey, Detective. Did you ever ask yourself if Washington's dead because he was dirty, or because he came clean?
Detective Paul Diskant: So we're just gonna go in there and kill them?
Tom Ludlow: No, I'm going to ask them some questions. Then we're going to kill them.
Tom Ludlow: We good?
Scribble: You know this is some bullshit, right? These dudes is monsters, man. I mean if they can't fuck it, rob it, or kill it they don't want it.
Coates: Man, we got the one-time up in here. Motherfucking po-po. Is there any square cops out there? Or is everybody out for theirs?
Tom Ludlow: Everyone's out for theirs. The way of the world.
Fremont: Dude, cops are like weeds. You pull one out, and two more fucking grow back.
Coates: That's what you're here for, dawg? You here to get some get-back for that sorry ass nigger, Detective Ludlow?
Tom Ludlow: No, you guys did me a favor. So you know who I am, and I know who you're not. If you're not Fremont and Coates, then who the hell are you?
Coates: Who are we, detective? We straight nightmares. We the walking, talking exigent circumstances.
Detective Paul Diskant: Ludlow, wait! I know these guys!
Tom Ludlow: You killed Washington!
Captain Jack Wander: Fuck him! Fuck Santos! Fuck Demille! Fuck Clady! Fuck them all! Fuck them all! They're a dime a dozen. You... you, man. You're special. You're special to me.
Captain Jack Wander: This shit's crazy! You fucked them up! This is beautiful. And that machine gun shit - that was perfect. I know you hated waiting, but it's better this way. You alright?
Tom Ludlow: Yeah I uh... I got shot.
Captain Jack Wander: Yeah, but you're okay?
Tom Ludlow: Yeah, I'm okay Jack.
Captain Jack Wander: Because I know you're not tripping over these assholes right here. Fuck 'em. Screw 'em. You went toe-to-toe with evil, and you won.
Tom Ludlow: [to approaching nurse] I'm waiting for nurse Garcia.
Captain James Biggs: I did the same thing with this girl once. She was a waitress at a jazz bar. I'd sit in her section, wouldn't let anybody else serve me. She's change sections, I'd change tables. Persistance...
[holds up wedding ring]
Captain James Biggs: ...that's the key.
Captain James Biggs: Insurance, Tom. I sell insurance. If you ever need any, and you will, why don't you give me a call. No one has to know but us. Not Clady, not Wander, no one.
[hands Ludlow his business card]
Captain James Biggs: Listen, for your own good, don't get yourself so far out there that I can't reel you back. See you sometime.
Grace Garcia: You know, you can just stop by sometime. You don't have to get shot when you want to see me.
Tom Ludlow: [groaning] Why? I like it like this.
Tom Ludlow: What's with you? Clady give you a happy ending?
Captain Jack Wander: Is that anyway to address a commander? Got the call from the chief this morning. Badge ceremony's next week.
Tom Ludlow: Congratulations, boss.
Sgt. Mike Clady: Hey, we're gonna have the keys to the city.
Detective Cosmo Santos: Believe that shit? They're crowning him king.
Captain Jack Wander: [raising glass] Let's give a toast to that. Toast to the king!
Tom Ludlow: [getting up to confront Washington] I'm just going to talk to him.
Sgt. Mike Clady: [holding Ludlow back] No, you're not. You're not.
Captain Jack Wander: You wanna talk? Let's talk about my foot up your ass if you don't sit the fuck down in your goddamn chair right now!
Tom Ludlow: I was just going to break his jaw.
Sgt. Mike Clady: [sarcastically] That's a good answer.
Captain Jack Wander: [to Ludlow] I can't afford to lose you. Who'd do what you do? You are the tip of the fucking spear. Who's going to hold back the animals?
Tom Ludlow: You have a complaint?
Beating Victim: Motherfucker beat my ass like I was Rodney King, man. Except there was no video. Dude looked just like you, but black.
Tom Ludlow: [while working complaints] You get his badge number? You see his name tag?
Older Black Man: Not with his boot on my throat, his partner kicking me. No, it was a little bit difficult.
Black Woman: Everyone comes here, they have a complaint. They sit down, I do waiting for motherfucking five hours and you're gonna ask me do I have a complaint? Obviously I have a complaint. You know what, this is some bullshit. That's why I hate all these motherfucking cops. Fuck all y'all!
Captain James Biggs: [to Ludlow] Phone Book Tom, the last of the ghetto gunfighters. Heard you got your best confession from a '91 directory.
Captain James Biggs: It doesn't bother you that there are two cop killers out there, living, laughing, fucking? It doesn't bother you, Tom?
Tom Ludlow: Yes, it bothers me!
Captain James Biggs: So why'd you let them get away, gunfighter?
Tom Ludlow: Hey, let's get something straight Captain, nobody's getting away.
Captain James Biggs: What happened to the video from the store?
Tom Ludlow: What video?
Captain James Biggs: Listen to me, every time you shit the bed, Wander's there to change the sheets. Well not anymore, son. I'll be pouring gas on you, be pouring gas on Wander, everyone in Vice Special. Then I'm lighting the match and I'm gonna burn all of you. I tried to save you, Detective Ludlow. Your window's closed. And that third shooter? He's mine, so help me god.
Captain Jack Wander: I'm sick of this shit, man. It's the same damn song for three years. Crying about your wife. She's gone, Tom. What's it going to take to bring you back from Mars?
Tom Ludlow: Have I ever asked you for anything?
Captain Jack Wander: You know what, you ask me for shit all the time.
Tom Ludlow: Big things, Jack. Important things.
Captain Jack Wander: What's up, Tom?
Tom Ludlow: Give me a green light to take out the assholes who did Washington. Come on, Jack. King's X.
Captain Jack Wander: What the hell is this?
Tom Ludlow: I can lay them out like I did those Koreans, but off the books. I'm talking shovels and trash bags. Who's going to know? Who's going to care?
Captain Jack Wander: The Koreans? That was business. This is some crazy bullshit wrapped around in that drunk ass mind of yours. Look at yourself. Look at yourself Tom, you're a mess! When did you start drinking today? You're little airplane bottles of vodka. And you drove over here intoxicated. You want a second DIU?
Tom Ludlow: [yelling] No one's going to fuck with me Jack! You're not listening to me! You're not listening to me!
Tom Ludlow: This has to be you and me.
Detective Paul Diskant: Why do you think we're in the goddamn bathroom?
Tom Ludlow: [referring to gangbangers across the street] Alright, Disco. You see those yahoos? I'm going to jam them. And when I do, one of them's going to bolt. That's the one that's dirty.
Detective Paul Diskant: You bored or something?
Tom Ludlow: [upon finding drugs hidden in a mustard container] You got two strikes, Grill. This is three strikes. Twenty-five to life.
Grill: That ain't my fucking shit. Fuck you. You put that shit there. Dirty ass, punk ass cop.