Johnny Quid: You see that pack of Virginia killing sticks on the end of the piano?
Johnny Quid: All you need to know about life is retained in those four walls. You will notice that one of your personalities is seduced by the illusions of grandeur: the gold packet of king-size with a regal insignia, an attractive implication towards grandeur and wealth, the subtle suggestion that cigarettes are indeed your royal and loyal friends - and that, Pete, is a lie. Your other personality is trying to draw your attention to the flip side of the discussion: written in boring bold black and white, it's a statement that these neat little soldiers of death and in fact trying to kill you - and that, Pete, is the truth. Oh, beauty is a beguiling call to death and I'm addicted to the sweet pitch of its siren. That that starts sweet ends bitter, and that which starts bitter ends sweet. THAT is why you and I love the drugs and that is also why I cannot give that painting back. Now please, pass me a light.
Pete: Oh, you are something special, Mr Johnny Quid.
Archie: People ask the question... what's a RocknRolla? And I tell 'em - it's not about drums, drugs, and hospital drips, oh no. There's more there than that, my friend. We all like a bit of the good life - some the money, some the drugs, others the sex game, the glamour, or the fame. But a RocknRolla, oh, he's different. Why? Because a real RocknRolla wants the fucking lot.
Johnny Quid: No need to worry just yet, boys. They're not going to do it while we're standing in the lift. Because then they'd have to carry the corpses to the cars, and that seems too much like hard work. In about two minutes there, Danny boy there is gonna turn and pop me two in the head, then one in the throat just to be sure. You shouldn't have brought me here, fellas, you're just going to end up as witnesses. Once they've "dealt" with us, they will put our corpses in the boot of a stolen car, then pour six gallons of petrol on the car. I'll let your imagination do the rest. Now, Danny boy here is rattled, because he knows that you know. And so, he's going to fight.
[Danny turns, but a forewarned Mickey and Roman manage to kill him and his friend]
Johnny Quid: Pass me the gun, Mickey. Quickly. QUICKLY! Don't worry, he can't defend himself, he's got no head!
Lenny Cole: There's no school like old school, and I'm the fucking headmaster.
Archie: Bandy, you ever ask a stupid question like that again, see Danny there? He's gonna slap you.
Bandy: Sorry Arch, I was, I was just trying to use initiative.
Archie: Danny, slap him.
[Danny smacks Bandy]
Archie: With the right, Danny, properly.
[Danny smacks Bandy with the right hand]
Archie: No, no, no, NO! Come on, do it properly with the back of the right hand!
Danny: What is this, a tennis match, Arch?
Archie: Slap him!
[Danny slaps Bandy]
Archie: Oh, for fu... Like this.
[slaps Bandy himself]
Archie: Now if you can master a slap like that, there's no need for your clients to hold back. They will open up like a fountain, full of words. No need for strong violence, no no. They're transported back to their childhoods. Putty in your hands. Ask Bandy. Look, thinks he's back at school.
Danny: But he never went to school, Arch.
Archie: You want a slap as well, Daniel, eh? Now, if a slap don't work, you cut 'em or you pay 'em. But you keep your receipts, 'cause this ain't the Mafia. Now get out there 'n look for the painting!
Johnny Quid: [Archie has Johnnie Quid by his lapels and backed up against the wall] Don't hurt me Arch... I'm only little!
Bandy: [pushing Lenny's wheelchair] Do you want to take the elevator or the stairs, Mr Cole?
Lenny Cole: Bandy, come here... you been drinking?
Lenny Cole: No, Mr Cole.
[Lenny slaps him]
Lenny Cole: Think, before you drink, before you drive me mad!
Johnny Quid: That, Roman and Mickey, is the famous Archie Slap.
Archie: Michael Finney: ten years... Frazier Nash: fifteen years... Cousin Ronnie got six years because of you, you bastard... Ryall Dexter: eight years... the Jude twins: fourteen years... and of course me, Archy: four long fucking years!
Roman: Uh, can we help you?
Lenny Cole: You've got an act called "The Quid Lickers".
Roman: We did, yeah.
Lenny Cole: Hmm... And there's a singer called "Johnny Quid".
Roman: There was.
Lenny Cole: Well, I'd like to see Mr. Quid.
Roman: I'd like to see him too, but uh that's gonna be a little tricky because according to the papers, the only songs Mr. Quid's gonna be singing are hymns
Lenny Cole: And I shed a tear. I shed a tear for all those bone-tops that read the papers and believe that shit. But did you see his body? Did you see him smacked-up and cracked-up with his tongue on his chin and his cock in his hand, swinging from the rafters like a real RocknRolla? No, you didn't, did you? And nobody else fucking did either, did they? Because he ain't dead. He's alive, alive-o somewhere selling cockles and mussels and a very important painting that doesn't belong to him.
Cookie: Have you ever bought a ticket to the Junkie's Boneyard, Roman. It's an unpleasent place, called "Curl up and die". Might sound like a hair salon, but it don't fucking look like one, I could tell ya. It's a terrible sight, and a horrible sound listening to a man,
Cookie: , suck in his soul through the hole in the pipe. It's even worse when he tries to tear it back. I've been there, and I've done that.
Cookie: And then I nailed that Demon in a smoke proof coffin, and I did it all with Johnny. I love that man, he's what you call class. And if you had any fucking brains, Roman, you'd love him too. You know his music sales have gone up 1000% in two weeks. You see, Johnny the crackhead, knows that a rocker is worth more dead than alive, silly world isn't it? Mr. Quid does not get his gear from me, he has to travel, far and wide. But do leave me a number, and if, the dead, feels like calling, you'll be the first to know.
Mumbles: Did he make a pass on you?
One Two: Yes, he fucking did.
Mumbles: So, what's the problem? Eh? It was supposed to be his last night. You took care of him. That's what friends do for one another. Well done. And I won't tell the chaps.
Archie: [narrates] My name's Archie, formerly known as Archibald. I work for a man called Lenny Cole, and Lenny Cole has the key to the backdoor of London's building industry.
Archie: I see your music's back in the charts.
Johnny Quid: That was when I was a RocknRolla.
Archie: Well, what are you going to be now, John?
Johnny Quid: You wanna watch out, 'cause I'm gonna be just like you, uncle. Now, I'm gonna be a REAL RocknRolla.
[Lenny slaps a young Johnny]
Lenny Cole: Now, listen to me, boy. Listen! I never did like you and neither did your real dad. You're a reject, a wrong and a fuckin' fairy in the mirror that I inherited from your mom. But she ain't with us no more, so now it's just you and me. In one week you're going back to school - the most expensive fuckin' school in the country, I might add - then you'll be gone for another term. In the meantime, show some gratitude and keep the fuckin' music down!
[leaves. Johnny puts the music back on and sings along with it, so Lenny returns and undoes his belt... ]
One Two: Come on, Bobby boy, cheer up.
Handsome Bob: What have I got to cheer up about? I'll be locked up in an 8-by-10 tomorrow night.
One Two: Bob, that's tomorrow night, okay? So tonight is take-off time. And we have got a party planned for you, my man! We got a couple of grams of "hurry up" and four "Jack the Rippers". We've got the Harris twins, probably the most expensive escort girls ever to have escorted; got the night off from the Russians and they have been greased down just for the Bobski!
[Handsome Bob rubs his eyes]
One Two: Okay, well, I see that cheered you up.
Handsome Bob: It's not that I'm not grateful, it's just...
One Two: What? It's just what?
Handsome Bob: You wouldn't understand...
One Two: Come on, Bobby boy, that's not fair. I'd understand anything coming from you.
Handsome Bob: Would you?
One Two: Bob, you're my best mate.
Handsome Bob: You see, I don't want the strippers, One Two.
One Two: Okay.
Handsome Bob: I want you.
[One Two chuckles, but Handsome Bob remains serious]
One Two: Dirty bastard... You dirty bastard!
[stops the car and gets out]
Handsome Bob: Five years, you know, I don't know if I can handle it...
One Two: I don't know what I was thinking, Bob. I mean, there's nothing wrong with being a poof or being a gay, or whatever it is you call it, I don't know. I mean, there's gonna be plenty of your lot in there. You'll probably love it.
Handsome Bob: Oh, God...
One Two: What... what exactly is it that you... that you want to do to me, then, Bob?
Mumbles: Who the fuck is Sydney Shaw?
One Two: No, Sydney Shaw is a pseudonym, you idiot. They never use their real name. Look, get around here and let me have a look, okay?
Mumbles: All right... Where did he learn a word like pseudonym?
Archie: Oi, Jackie! Fancy a little run around with the Councilor?
Jackie: Only if he's wicked.
Councillor: What's she mean by that?
Archie: What would you like her to mean by that, Councillor?
One Two: Hello?
Stella: It's me?
One Two: Who?
One Two: Ahh. Well, what do you want?
One Two: Well, you had better come in then.
Pete: I'I'm sorry. I thought you might've liked a bit of company.
Johnny Quid: I'm dead, Pete. What does that tell you? It tells you that dead people don't like company.
Lenny Cole: [wearing a hat, suit, and glasses] What d'you think we are? Gangsters?
Lenny Cole: Archie, slap him, send him to school, 'cause I can't take no more of this.
One Two: Nice shoes by the way.
Stella: Thank you. You will be able to afford a pair of your own in a couple of days.
Lenny Cole: I thought you lot drink vodka.
Uri: Whisky is the new vodka.
Lenny Cole: You're not joining me?
Uri: I don't drink.
One Two: Let's go get those papers from your boyfriend. And drop me off on the way. I'm going back to bed.
Handsome Bob: Can I come?
[One Two slaps him]
Mumbles: If I could be half the human being Bob is at the cost of being a poof, I'd have to think about it. Not for very long, but I'd have to pause.
[after seeing Lenny Cole in a wheelchair for the first time]
Johnny Quid: Daddy! Nice wheels!
One Two: Bob, I know all your girlfriends, all of them.
Handsome Bob: I told you, you wouldn't understand!
One Two: What, I wouldn't understand that you're a fucking homo? You're Handsome Bob! You're Handsome Bob, the fucking lady-killer, that's who you are! Do you hear me, Bob? I mean, I've had showers with you, man. You've seen my fucking cock!
Johnny Quid: Why are you talking to the Pipe, Roman? You're madder than I am.
Lenny Cole: Look, you go see if you can find them two flash idiots that used to be his manager. What are they called, uh, Greek and Minnie.
Archie: Roman and Mickey.
Lenny Cole: Yeah, whatever.
One Two: I've got one just like that at home, but with a little boy fishing.
Stella: Is that what they call humor where you're from?
One Two: Is that what they call art where you're from?
Johnny Quid: Did he ever interfere with you? You know, touch you inappropriately?
Pete: He tickled me, if that's what you mean.
Johnny Quid: You see in psychological circles there's a technical term for that scenario.
Pete: There is?
Johnny Quid: Monsteroustickalotis.
Pete: You what?
Johnny Quid: Your dad was a tickling monster.
Uri: They say there are only two days you enjoy a boat: the day you buy it and the day you sell it.
Pete: My dad used to make me watch Bonanza every Sunday after church.
Johnny Quid: Well, that's got to have done some damage. All those guns, nuns, and cowboys.
Pete: You think?... It wasn't all bad. He sometimes made me laugh, too.
Old Man at Bar: [Johnny Quid takes Old Man's drink and swigs] Oi, that's my drink.
Pete: Fuck you, sing-along.
[Johnny Quid gives the Old Man the finger]
Pete: You're no help, and stop calling me Pedro.
[Old Man grabs bottle to fight]
Johnny Quid: [Johnny Quid turns to face him, crazy-eyed] Come on then, boy. I'll have you and your girlfriends. I'll do the lot of yas.
[Johnny Quid points a sharpened pencil at the Old Man]
Johnny Quid: Do I not look like a pothouse? Six foot down the bar. Go on, jog on, walk on, goodbye, bon voyage, fuck off.
[Group of old men turn away]
Johnny Quid: Was I good or what, Pete?
Johnny Quid: It's all in the eyes. Junkies, I shit them.
One Two: So you don't wanna know what happened?
Stella: I know what happened. Hollandaise?
One Two: I see you ordered already.
Stella: You were late. Shouldn't you have taken precautions?
One Two: Precautions?
Stella: Well, that's your job, isn't it? I didn't realize.
One Two: Realize? Realize that they had guns? Big, long, dangerous machine guns? With war criminals attached to the trigger?
[cue big getaway sequence by the Wild Bunch]
One Two: You know what, darling? I'm just gonna leave this laundry bag here, under the table for you, okey? Goodbye, sweetheart. You're way too dangerous for me.
Malcolm: Okay, gentlemen, let's go. First, my colleague Paul will be modeling the 'gray wolf.' I must apologize for my assistant's handicaps. He has unusually long arms and an alarmingly small neck. Now while I agree it doesn't seem the right time of year to be acquiring a coat with such thermal efficiency...
One Two: It is the middle of fucking summer.
Malcolm: However, Christmas is always around the corner!
Mumbles: You were missed in court this morning.
Cookie: Not very compassionate, is it? Not turning up to your amigo's funeral.
Fred the Head: Yeah, everyone else was there, except you. And I got a feeling that the only person that Handsome really wanted to see... was you.
One Two: Dance?
Stella: You're a dancer?
One Two: Am I a dancer? Shall we set the record straight? See, my dad was a dancer, and his dad before him. So, finally, it percolates through the old DNA. You're not joining me?
Stella: Sure. I like to dance.
Archie: Look, I gotta go, got another call.
[Under his breath]
Archie: Fucking hell, it's all go on this job.
Archie: [narrates] Oh, isn't that an unpleasant surprise. Because they don't want to owe Lenny.
One Two: We can't get the planning.
Archie: That's right sweetheart...
Mumbles: We can't get the planning?
Archie: ...you've been fucked.
[after getting the property deeds from One-Two and Mumbles]
Lenny Cole: What's wrong with you, Archie?
Archie: Is that not a bit strong, Lenny? I mean, they come from the same place as you, you're gonna clean them out.
Lenny Cole: The same place as me? Do I look like a fucking immigrant? No one gave ME a leg up! They need a little bit of fear, otherwise they'll come up against me. They need a little lesson, don't they?
Archie: [narrates] And that is an example of how Lenny works.
Archie: [narrates] Now today is Lenny's big day. He's hit the big time, because a new Russian billionaire desires Lenny's property contacts. He wants planning permission where the law won't allow. Of course Lenny will come through. But he will rake that Russian for every rouble he can get.
[informing on his mates]
Sidney Shaw: One-Two: just a two-stretch to calm the flash fucker down.
Sidney Shaw: Mumbles thinks he's a clever boy, so give him a three.
Sidney Shaw: Archy: he's as loyal as a dog, but he's getting a bit greedy. Four years.
[Archie brings a gift for Johnny]
Archie: I know how much you like the art, Johnny boy, so I thought it'd look good on your wall.
Johnny Quid: Someone's been telling you stories, Archy. Now that must have been expensive.
Archie: As it happens, it did cost a very wealthy Russian an arm and a leg.
Rocker: [interrupting Mickey's phone call] The dry ice, Mickey, I need the fucking dry ice! My show just doesn't work without it!
Mickey: If you'd asked me yesterday for dry ice, I would've got you the driest ice the world could have, but you didn't ask me for no dry ice. You asked me for two cases of Johnny Walker Black Label and four ladies of the pole. And I got them for you, didn't I?
Rocker: Yes. Yes, you did, I do confess. But Mickey, you're the manager, I'm the rocker. You've got on the hat. Why not just pull something out of it?
Mickey: My hat is deep and full of magic. I got rabbits, handkerchiefs, and ladies of the pole drinking Black Label; I got smoke machines, bubble machines, I even got love marines, and still the hat goes deeper. All right? But there AIN'T no motherfuckin' dry ice!
Rocker: Okay. You made your point. But tomorrow, might be quite nice to have some dry ice.