Turkish: What's happening with them sausages, Charlie?
Sausage Charlie: Five minutes, Turkish.
Turkish: It was two minutes five minutes ago.
Policeman: So, what you doin here?
Turkish: I'm taking the dog for a walk. What's the problem?
Policeman: What's in the car?
Turkish: Seats and a steering wheel.
Brick Top: Do you know what "nemesis" means? A righteous infliction of retribution manifested by an appropriate agent. Personified in this case by an 'orrible cunt... me.
Tyrone: I don't want that dog dribbling on my seats.
Vinny: Your seats? Tyrone, this is a stolen car, mate.
Avi: Eighty-six carats.
Avi's Colleague: London?
Avi: Yes, London. You know: fish, chips, cup 'o tea, bad food, worse weather, Mary fucking Poppins... LONDON.
Mickey: Good dags. D'ya like dags?
Mrs. O'Neil: Yeah, dags.
Tommy: Oh, dogs. Sure, I like dags. I like caravans more.
Avi: Should I call you Bullet? Tooth?
Bullet Tooth Tony: You can call me Susan if it makes you happy.
Bullet Tooth Tony: So, you are obviously the big dick. The men on the side of ya are your balls. Now there are two types of balls. There are big brave balls, and there are little mincey faggot balls.
Vinny: These are your last words, so make them a prayer.
Bullet Tooth Tony: Now, dicks have drive and clarity of vision, but they are not clever. They smell pussy and they want a piece of the action. And you thought you smelled some good old pussy, and have brought your two little mincey faggot balls along for a good old time. But you've got your parties muddled up. There's no pussy here, just a dose that'll make you wish you were born a woman. Like a prick, you are having second thoughts. You are shrinking, and your two little balls are shrinking with you. And the fact that you've got "Replica" written down the side of your guns...
[Zoom in on the side of Sol's gun, which indeed has "REPLICA" etched on the side; zoom out, as they sneak peeks at the sides of their guns]
Bullet Tooth Tony: And the fact that I've got "Desert Eagle point five O"...
[Withdraws his gun and puts it on the table]
Bullet Tooth Tony: Written on the side of mine...
[They look, zoom in on the side of his gun, which indeed has "DESERT EAGLE .50" etched on the side]
Bullet Tooth Tony: Should precipitate your balls into shrinking, along with your presence. Now... Fuck off!
Vinny: I thought you said he was a getaway driver. What the fuck can he get away from, eh?
Bullet Tooth Tony: You should never underestimate the predictability of stupidity.
Brick Top: In the quiet words of the Virgin Mary... come again?
Bullet Tooth Tony: A bookie's got blagged last night.
Avi: Blagged? Speak English to me, Tony. I thought this country spawned the fucking language, and so far nobody seems to speak it.
Brick Top: You're always gonna have problems lifting a body in one piece. Apparently the best thing to do is cut up a corpse into six pieces and pile it all together.
Sol: Would someone mind telling me, who are you?
Brick Top: And when you got your six pieces, you gotta get rid of them, because it's no good leaving it in the deep freeze for your mum to discover, now is it? Then I hear the best thing to do is feed them to pigs. You got to starve the pigs for a few days, then the sight of a chopped-up body will look like curry to a pisshead. You gotta shave the heads of your victims, and pull the teeth out for the sake of the piggies' digestion. You could do this afterwards, of course, but you don't want to go sievin' through pig shit, now do you? They will go through bone like butter. You need at least sixteen pigs to finish the job in one sitting, so be wary of any man who keeps a pig farm. They will go through a body that weighs 200 pounds in about eight minutes. That means that a single pig can consume two pounds of uncooked flesh every minute. Hence the expression, "as greedy as a pig".
Vinny: Well, thank you for that. That's a great weight off me mind. Now, if you wouldn't mind telling me who the fuck you are, apart from someone who feeds people to pigs of course?
Bullet Tooth Tony: Boris the Blade? As in Boris the Bullet-Dodger?
Avi: Why do they call him the Bullet-Dodger?
Bullet Tooth Tony: 'Cause he dodges bullets, Avi.
[Tyrone just backed into Franky Four Fingers' van]
Tyrone: I didn't see it there.
Vinny: It's a four ton truck, Tyrone. Its not as if it's a packet of fucking peanuts, is it?
Tyrone: It was a funny angle.
[All three turn and look back at the truck]
Vinny: It's behind you Tyrone. Whenever you reverse, things come from behind you.
Brick Top: I don't care if he's Muhammad "I'm hard" Bruce Lee. You can't change fighters.
Avi: You got a toothbrush? We're going to London. Do you hear that, Doug? I'm coming to London.
[Avi arrives in London]
Doug the Head: Avi!
Avi: Shut up and sit down, you big, bald fuck. I don't like leaving my own country, Doug, and I especially don't like leaving it for anything less then warm sandy beaches, and cocktails with little straw hats.
Doug the Head: We've got sandy beaches...
Avi: So? Who the fuck wants to see 'em? I hope you appreciate the concern I have for my friend Franky, Doug. I'm gonna find him, and you're gonna help me find him, and we're gonna start at that fight.
Turkish: [narrating] My name is Turkish. Funny name for an Englishman, I know. My parents to be were on the same plane when it crashed. That's how they met. They named me after the name of the plane. Not many people are named after a plane crash. That's Tommy. He tells people he was named after a gun, but I know he was really named after a famous 19th century ballet dancer.
Turkish: Well the rabbit gets fucked.
Tommy: [pauses] Proper fucked?
Turkish: Yes, before "Zee Germans" get there.
Boris 'The Blade' Yurinov: [referring to Tommy's gun] Heavy is good, heavy is reliable. If it doesn't work you can always hit them with it.
Franky Four Fingers: So the Biblical scholars mis-translated the Hebrew word for "young woman" into the Greek word for "virgin," which was a pretty easy mistake to make, since there is only a subtle difference in the spelling. But back then it was the "virgin" that caught people's attention. It's not every day a virgin conceives and bears a son. So you keep that for a couple of hundred years, and the next thing you know, you have the Holy Catholic church.
Turkish: [looks at the caravan] Look at it. How am I suppose to run this thing from that? We'll need a proper office. I want a new one, Tommy. You're going to buy it for me.
Tommy: Why me?
Turkish: Well, you know about caravans.
Tommy: How's that?
Turkish: You spent a summer in one, which means you know more than me. And I don't want to have my pants pulled down over the price.
Tommy: What's wrong with this one?
Turkish: [Pulls the caravan's door from its hinges] Oh, nothing, Tommy. It's tiptop. It's just I'm not sure about the colour.
Vinny: Why are we stopped here? What's wrong with that spot?
Tyrone: It's too tight.
Vinny: Too tight? You could land a jumbo fucking jet in that.
Turkish: Fuck me, hold tight. What's that?
Tommy: It's me belt, Turkish.
Turkish: No, Tommy. There's a gun in your trousers. What's a gun doing in your trousers?
Tommy: It's for protection.
Turkish: Protection from what? "Zee Germans"?
Brick Top: Listen, you fucking fringe, if I throw a dog a bone, I don't want to know if it tastes good or not. You stop me again whilst I'm walking, and I'll cut your fucking Jacobs off.
Customs official: Anything to declare?
Avi: Yeah. Don't go to England.
Gorgeous George: Get back down or you will not be coming up next time.
[watches as Mickey warms up]
Gorgeous George: Oh, bollocks to you. This is sick. I'm out of here.
Mickey: You're not going anywhere, you thick lump.
[Pulls off his shirt]
Mickey: You stay until the job's done.
[kisses his good luck charms and knocks Gorgeous out with a single punch]
Turkish: [narrating] It turned out that the sweet-talking, tattoo-sporting pikey was a gypsy bare-knuckle boxing champion. Which makes him harder than a coffin nail. Right now, that's the last thing on Tommy's mind. If Gorgeous doesn't wake up in the next few minutes, Tommy knows he'll be buried with him. Why would the gypsies go through the trouble of explaining why a man died in their campsite when they can bury the pair of them and just move camp? It's not like they got social security numbers, is it? Tommy - the tit - is praying. And if he isn't, he fucking should be.
Brick Top: Do you know what nemesis means? A righteous infliction of retribution manifested by an appropriate agent, personified in this case by a 'orrible cunt, me.
[Doug sees four Jewish kids smoking]
Doug the Head: What are you doing?
Jewish Boy: [spits] It's a free country, ain't it?
Doug the Head: Well it ain't a free shop, is it? So fuck off!
Sol: I'm not in here to make a fucking bet.
Female Bookie: 'Preciated, but all... bets... are... off. If all bets are off, then there can't be any money can't there?
Sol: I'm not fucking buying that.
Female Bookie: Well that's handy, 'cause I ain't fucking selling it. It's a fact.
Brick Top: What do you think, Errol?
Errol: I think we should drip-dry them, Guv'nor, while we have the chance.
Brick Top: It was a rhetorical question, Errol. What have I told you about thinking?
Mickey: I'll tell ya what. I'll do it for a caravan.
Turkish: For what?
Pikeys: For a caravan.
Tommy: It was us who wanted a caravan.
Tommy: Anyway, what's wrong with this one?
Mickey: It's not for me. It's for me ma.
Turkish: Your what?
Pikeys: His ma.
Turkish: You show me how to control a wild fucking gypsy and I'll show you how to control an unhinged, pig-feeding gangster.
Sol: He's a natural, ain't you Tyrone?
Tyrone: 'course I am...
[reverses into parked van]
Vinny: A natural fucking idiot.
Vinny: What the fuck do you mean, replicas?
Sol: They look the shit, don't they? And nobody is gonna argue. And I've got some extra loud blanks, just in case.
Vinny: In... Oh, in case we have to deafen them to death?
Bullet Tooth Tony: What?
Avi: Look in the dog.
Bullet Tooth Tony: What do you mean "look in the dog?"
Avi: I mean open him up.
Bullet Tooth Tony: It's not as if it's a tin of baked beans! What do you mean "open him up"?
Turkish: Well, do you want to do it?
Mickey: That depends.
Turkish: On what?
Mickey: On you buying this caravan. Not the rouge one, the rose.
Turkish: It's not the same caravan.
Mickey: It's not the same fight.
Turkish: It's twice the fucking size of the last one.
Mickey: Turkish, the fight is twice the size. And me ma still needs a caravan. I like to look after me ma. It's a fair deal. Take it.
Turkish: Mickey, you're lucky we aren't worm food after your last performance. Buying a tart's mobile palace is a little fucking rich.
[Realizes his mistake]
Turkish: I wasn't calling your mum a tart. I just meant...
Mickey: Ah, save your breath for cooling your porridge. Now, look...
Mickey: She wants the Hector-2 roof lights, uh... the stylish ash-framed furniture and the scatter cushions with the matching shag pile covering.
Mickey: Right. And she's terrible partial to the periwinkle blue, boys. Have I made myself clear, boys?
Turkish: Yeah, that's perfectly clear, Mickey. Yeah... just give me one minute to confer with my colleague.
Turkish: Did you understand a single word of what he just said?
Tommy: Who took the jam outta your doughnut?
Turkish: You took the fucking jam outta my doughnut, Tommy. You did.
Turkish: Have you ever crossed the road, and looked the wrong way? A car's nearly on you? So what do you do? Something very silly. You freeze. Your life doesn't flash before you, 'cause you're too fuckin' scared to think - you just freeze and pull a stupid face. But the pikey didn't. Why? Because he had plans of running the car over.
Errol: Fuckface, who's speaking to you? He asked him, didn't he?
Turkish: Fuckface... I like that one Errol. I'll have to remember that one next time I'm climbing off yer mum.
Avi: I'm gettin' heartburn. Tony, do something terrible.
Brick Top: You're on thin fucking ice my pedigree chums, and I shall be under it when it breaks. Now, fuck off.
Sol: What the fuck is that?
Vinny: Heh heh. This is a shotgun, Sol.
Sol: It's a fucking anti-aircraft gun, Vincent.
Vinny: Well I wanna raise some pulses, don't I?
Sol: You'll raise Hell. Never mind pulses.
[looking at the video of Sol and Vinny, trapped in the foyer of the bookie's by the security door]
Brick Top: Do you know these tits, Errol?
Errol: I know a lot of tits, Guv'nor. But I don't know any quite as fucking stupid as these two.
Brick Top: John?
John: I can't help, Guv.
[Tyrone pokes his head in the door]
Errol: Ah, Tyrone.
Mickey: The deal was you bought it like you saw it. Hey, look, I've helped you as much as I'm going to help you. See that car? Just use it for you're not welcome anymore. You should fuck off now while you still got the legs to carry you.
Gorgeous George: Nobody...
Mickey: Nobody brings a fella the size of you unless they're trying to say something without talking, right boy?
Tommy: Sorry, Mickey. Just give our money back and you can keep the caravan.
Mickey: Why the fuck do I want a caravan that's got no fucking wheels?
[Gorgeous rushes Mickey]
Mickey: You want to settle this with a fight?
Mrs. O'Neil: Over my dead body! Now, go on! Go on! I'll not have you fighting! You know what happens when you fight.
Mickey: Get her to sit down. For fuck's sake! Want the money? I ain't fucked you. I'll fight you for it. You and me.
Mickey: [roused from his drunken stupor] I need to have a shite.
[Gorgeous George has just been knocked out]
Turkish: We've lost Gorgeous George.
Brick Top: Shhh. You're going to have to repeat that.
Turkish: We've lost Gorgeous George.
Brick Top: Well, where'd you lose him? He ain't a set of fucking car keys, is he? And it ain't as if he's incon-fucking-spicuous now, is it?
Sol: You ain't from this planet are you, Vincent? Who is gonna mug two black fellas, holding pistols, sat in a car that is worth less than your shirt?
[while robbing the bookies]
Sol: Are you all right there Vincent?
Vinny: I would be if you stopped using my name.
[Avi, Tony, and Rosebud watch Boris on the video monitor]
Bullet Tooth Tony: This guy's a handful.
Rosebud: I hate Russians. I'll take care of him.
Bullet Tooth Tony: He's all yours, Rosebud me old son.
Rosebud: Not a problem.
[Cut to a few minutes later, inside Tony's Jaguar. All three of them are bruised, bloody, and shouting, but Rosebud is seriously hurt]
Rosebud: You gotta get me to a doctor! Shoot that fuck, then get me to a doctor!
Avi: Yeah, yeah, but first the stone, Rosie. First the stone and then I'm gonna get you to a doctor, and not just any doctor, boychik, I'm gonna find you a nice Jewish doctor.
Avi: Find my friend a nice Jewish doctor!
Turkish: It's an unlicensed boxing match. It's not a tickling competition. These lads are out to hurt each other.
Boris 'The Blade' Yurinov: [after shooting Frankie] Drop the gun, fat boy.
Boris 'The Blade' Yurinov: [re: Frankie] You fucking idiots! He could not know my name. Give me the stone.
Vinny: [pointing] It's in the case.
Boris 'The Blade' Yurinov: What?
[takes out his earplugs]
Vinny: It's in the case!
Boris 'The Blade' Yurinov: You put the stone in the case? Then open the case and give me the stone.
Sol: The only man who knew the combination... you just shot.
Boris 'The Blade' Yurinov: [mutters] Yob tvoyu mat...
[Russian, "fuck your mother"]
Tommy: The human body hasn't got used to dairy products yet.
Turkish: Well fuck me Tommy. What have you been reading?
Brick Top: Pull your tongue out of my arsehole, Gary. Dogs do that. You're not a dog, are ya Gary?
Gary: No, no I'm not.
Brick Top: But you do have all the characteristics of a dog, Gary. All except loyalty.
[Errol zaps Gary]
Turkish: [Voice over] It's rumored that Brick Top's favorite means of dispatch involves a stun gun, a plastic bag, a roll of tape, and a pack of hungry pigs.
Brick Top: [to Errol's companion] You're a ruthless little cunt, Liam, I'll give you that. But I've got no time for grassers.
[John throws a plastic bag over Liam's head and suffocates him]
Brick Top: Feed 'em to the pigs, Errol.
[to the two boxers, who are now staring in horror]
Brick Top: What the fuck are you two looking at?
[after cleaning out Turkish's Safe]
Brick Top: He's been a busy little bastard, that Turkish.
Errol: I think you've let him get away with enough already, Guv'nor.
Brick Top: It can get you in a lot of trouble, thinking, Errol, I shouldn't do so much of it.
Doug the Head: [examining Franky's diamonds] Ah, from Russia with love, eh?
Franky Four Fingers: I have stones to sell, fat to chew, and many different men to see about many different dogs, so if I am not rushing you...
Doug the Head: Slow down, Franky, my son. When in Rome.
Franky Four Fingers: I am not in Rome, Doug. I am in a rush. I got to make the bookies.
Doug the Head: Bookies? What are you betting on?
Franky Four Fingers: Bomber Harris.
Doug the Head: Ah. The unlicensed boxer, eh? Do you know something that I don't?
Franky Four Fingers: Bubbe, I probably know a lot you don't.
Turkish: For ever action, there is a reaction. And a Pikey reaction... is quite a fucking thing.
Turkish: [narrating] Tommy persuaded me to keep the dog. I eventually agreed, as long as he took it to a vet. I couldn't stand that squeaking any more. The vet found half an undigested shoe, a squeaky toy, and an 84-carat diamond lodged in its stomach. It's quite amazing what can happen in a week. Still didn't shut it up though. So what do you do? You go to see the man that knows about these sort of things.
Turkish: So what do you think? Do you know anyone who'd be interested?
Doug the Head: I might.
Turkish: Tommy, why is your skin leaking?
Tommy: I'm a little worried actually, Turkish.
Turkish: Worried about what?
Tommy: What happens if the gypsy knocks the other man out? I mean, he's done it before ain't he?
Turkish: We get murdered before we leave the building, and I imagine we get fed to the pigs.
Tommy: Well I'm glad to see you're climbing the walls in fucking anxiety. Pardon my cynicism, but I don't exactly trust the pikey.
Turkish: Don't think I haven't thunk about that one, Tommy. It's his mum's funeral tonight. God bless her. You know those gypsies like a drink at a wake. I'm not worried about whether Mickey knocks the other man out. I'm worried about whether Mickey makes it to the fourth fucking round.
Tommy: What if he doesn't make it to the fourth round?
Turkish: We get murdered before we leave the building, and I imagine we get fed to the pigs.
Turkish: I can't make him fight, can I?
Brick Top: You're not much good to me alive, are you, Turkish?
[Tony empties his gun through the wall, hitting both Boris and Tyrone. He comes in, reloading]
Bullet Tooth Tony: What's Boris doing here? Boris, what are you doing here?
Boris 'The Blade' Yurinov: Fuck you!
[Tony shoots him twice, then turns to Tyrone]
Bullet Tooth Tony: Where's the case?
Boris 'The Blade' Yurinov: Uhhh, you piece of crap...
Bullet Tooth Tony: Don't take the piss, Boris.
Boris 'The Blade' Yurinov: [reaching for his gun] I show you...
[Tony shoots him four more times]
Boris 'The Blade' Yurinov: Fuck you!
[a seventh time]
Boris 'The Blade' Yurinov: Almost had it...
Bullet Tooth Tony: For fuck's sake...
[Tony takes careful aim and fires an eighth shot. Sound of Boris finally collapsing]
Turkish: I fail to recognize the correlation between losing ten grand, hospitalizing Gorgeous, and a good deal.
Doug the Head: Avi, I'm not telepathic.
Cousin Avi: Well you're plenty fucking stupid, I'll give you that. Do you know why they call him Franky "Four Fingers" Doug? Because he makes stupid bets with dangerous people, and when he doesn't pay up, they give him the chop, Doug. And I'm not talking about his fucking fore-skin either.
Cousin Avi: Is there gambling involved?
Doug the Head: It's a boxing match, Avi, a boxing match.
Cousin Avi: Did he have a case with him?
Doug the Head: Yes, he had a case.
Cousin Avi: And this schmuck is gambling? You're talking about Franky "I've got a problem with gambling" fucking Four Fingers Doug.
Turkish: All he's gotta do is stay down.
[Mickey suddenly rises from the mat and knocks out Anderson with a single punch]
Turkish: *Now* we are fucked.
Avi: [in Doug's office while trying to find Boris] Russians.
Avi: Russians. I should've known. Anti-Semite, slippery Cossack sluts. What do you know about this goyim?
Bullet Tooth Tony: Ex-KGB cancer. He was a highly trained undercover agent. He'll be impossible to track down.
Doug the Head: [the phone rings and Doug picks it up] Yeah.
Susi Denovitz: Dad, there's a strange man down here who wants to sell us an 84-carat stone.
Doug the Head: Where does he come from?
Susi Denovitz: I don't know, it's hard to tell. He's got a thick Russian accent.
[cut to a TV monitor as Boris stares suspiciously into the camera]
Vinny: [Vinny brings a dog into the shop while Sol is examining a diamond for Bad Bay Lincoln] Bad Boy. Sol.
Bad Boy Lincoln: Easy.
Sol: No, it's a moissanite.
Bad Boy Lincoln: A what-in-ite?
Sol: A moissanite is an artificial diamond, Lincoln. It's Mickey Mouse, mate. Spurious. Not genuine. And it's worth... fuck-all.
[he hands back the stone]
Vinny: Bad Boy, I keep tellin' ya, stick to being a gangster. Leave this game to me and Sol.
Bad Boy Lincoln: Laters.
[he walks out]
Sol: What is that, Vince?
Vinny: This is a dog, Sol.
Sol: You are NOT bringing that thing in here.
Vinny: What's your problem? It's only a fucking dog.
Sol: Where did you get it?
Vinny: The gyppos. Here.
[he tosses Sol a bag]
Vinny: They threw it in with a load of moody gold. You know gyppos, Sol. They're always throwing dogs in with deals.
Sol: Well, it better not be dangerous.
[Vinny takes the dog off its leash]
Sol: What do you think you're doing now?
Vinny: Well, I want him to get used to the shop, don't I?
[Boris opens the door and walks in; the dog runs out and Vinny takes off after it]
Vinny: Oi! Oi, stop the dog! Come back here!
Sol: All right, Boris? Don't worry about the dog.
Boris 'The Blade' Yurinov: I'm not.
Sol: What can I do for you, Boris?
Boris 'The Blade' Yurinov: I have a job for you.
Sol: I already have a job.
Boris 'The Blade' Yurinov: Fifty grand for half day's work.
Sol: Go on.
Boris 'The Blade' Yurinov: I want you to hold up a bookies.
Alex Denovitz: What about Tony?
[Cut back and forth between Doug's office and a younger Tony in Charlie's brothel]
Alex Denovitz: You know, Bullet Tooth Tony.
Avi: Who's Bullet Tooth...?
Bullet Tooth Tony: You silly fuck.
Doug the Head: He's a liability.
Alex Denovitz: He'll find you Moses and the burning bush, if you pay him to.
Charlie: [draws a gun] You are gonna die, Tony!
Alex Denovitz: He got shot six times, had the bullets molded into gold.
[Charlie shoots Tony twice in the chest]
Charlie: I shoot you, you go down!
Susi Denovitz: He's got two in his teeth that Dad did for him. So he loves Dad.
[Charlie shoots Tony three more times]
Charlie: Why don't you fucking die!
Susi Denovitz: He's the best chance you got of finding Franky.
Avi: Six times?
[Charlie shoots Tony in the mouth]
Doug the Head: In one sitting.
[Tony, blood dripping from his mouth, draws a saber]
Bullet Tooth Tony: You're in trouble now!
Turkish: Now, I know he looks like a fat fucker... well, he is a fat fucker...
[Brick-Top's men have Turkish pinned on the floor. Errol raises a sword to strike, then Tommy appears with his dud pistol]
Tommy: Turkish, get your arse up. You lot? Follow me, and I'll fucking shoot you.
Errol: Calm down son, behave yourself.
Tommy: I've got the gun, son. I think it's you who should behave.
[Errol takes a step forward. Tommy cocks the gun and sticks it right in his face]
Tommy: What? You want to see if I've got the minerals?
[Brick-Top's men don't move as Tommy backs out of the slot parlor, then runs after Turkish]
Bullet Tooth Tony: All right, Mullet?
[Mullet freezes, then swallows and turns around]
Mullet: How you doin', Tony? You all right, mate?
Bullet Tooth Tony: Ooh, nice tie.
Mullet: I heard you weren't about much these days, Tony.
Bullet Tooth Tony: What do you know? Still warm, the blood that courses through my veins. Unlike yours, Mullet.
Turkish: You aren't exactly Mister Current Affairs are you, Tommy? "Mad Fist" went mad, and "The Gun," shot himself.
Sol: You are a bad-boy yardie, and bad-boy yardies are supposed to know how to get rid of bodies.
Bad Boy Lincoln: I create the bodies. I don't erase the bodies.
Bullet Tooth Tony: I want to know who blagged Brick-Top's bookies.
Mullet: Do me a favor, Ton!
Bullet Tooth Tony: I will do you a favor, Mullet. I'll not get out of this car and bash the living fuck out of you in front of all your girlfriends.
[Mullet hunkers down to the car window]
Mullet: Got to make it worth my while, mate. Jesus, Tony, you know that...
[Tony seizes his tie and rolls up the window, wedging Mullet's head in it]
Bullet Tooth Tony: Comfortable, Mullet? It seems sadly ironic that it's that tie that's got you into this pickle. Now you just take all the time you want.
[He starts the car forward]
Mullet: What the fuck are you doing, Ton?
Bullet Tooth Tony: I'm driving down the street with your head stuck in my window. What do you think I'm doing, you pen-ass?
Mullet: Slow down, Ton.
Bullet Tooth Tony: [sniffs] You been using dogshit for toothpaste, Mullet?
Mullet: Slow down, Ton! Slow down, Tony!
Bullet Tooth Tony: I don't think I'll slow down. I think I'll speed up. You can play some music if you like.
[He turns on the radio; Madonna's "Lucky Star" is playing]
Bullet Tooth Tony: Oh, I love this track.
Mullet: I think...
Bullet Tooth Tony: Yes, Mullet?
Mullet: I think it's two black guys, in a pawn shop on Smith street.
Bullet Tooth Tony: You better not be telling me porky pies.
Mullet: I'm fucking telling you, it's two black guys who work off a pawn shop in fucking Smith Street!
Avi: That's very effective, Tony. It's not too subtle, but effective.
[Tony accelerates and turns toward Smith Street]
Avi: Are we taking him with us?
[Tony rolls down the window, releasing Mullet's head and dumping him on the roadside]
Brick Top: [referring to Tommy] Turkish, put a lid on her.
Tommy: Are you sayin' I can't shoot?
Turkish: No Tommy, I'm not saying you can't shoot. I know you can't shoot. I'm saying that six-pound piece of shit stuck in your trousers would do more damage if you fed it to him.
Brick Top: [Into cell phone] Pete, talk to me.
Darren: [Into cell phone] If ya want yer friend to hear ya, you'll have to talk a lot louder than that.
Avi: Tony, there is a man I'd like you to find.
Bullet Tooth Tony: Well, that depends on all the elements in the equation. How many are there?
Avi: Forty thousand.
Bullet Tooth Tony: Where was he last seen?
Doug the Head: At a bookie's.
Bullet Tooth Tony: A bookie's... pass us the blower, Susi.
[standing over Franky's body]
Bad Boy Lincoln: What has he got a tea cozy on his head for?
Sol: [sarcastic] To keep his head warm.
Bad Boy Lincoln: Well, what's the matter with him?
Vinny: He's been shot in the face, Lincoln. I would've thought that was obvious.
Turkish: [voice over] Boris the Blade, or Boris "the Bullet Dodger." As bent as the Soviet sickle, and as hard as the hammer that crosses it. Apparently, it's just impossible to kill the bastard.
Mickey: I'll bet you for it.
Tommy: You'll what?
Pikeys: HE'LL BET YOU FOR IT!
Turkish: What, like Tommy did last time? Do me a favour?
Mickey: I'll do you a favour. You have first bet. If I win, I get a caravan... and the boys get a pair of them shoes.
[the Pikeys laugh at Turkish and Tommy, who are wearing plastic bags around their shoes]
Mickey: If I lose... Oh fuck it, I'll do the fight for free.
Turkish: [narrating] Now the last thing I really wanna do is bet a pikey.
Vinny: Now I don't want to put a bullet in your face, but if you don't give us *exactly* what we want, there will be fucking murder.
Bullet Tooth Tony: [to Tyrone] What's your name?
Sol: Shoot him.
Bullet Tooth Tony: Ooh.
various characters: [regarding Boris The Blade] Sneaky fuckin' Russian.
Boris 'The Blade' Yurinov: You can keep the 10 grand, along with the body. But if I see you again - YOU MOTHERFUCKERS! - Well, look at him.
Errol: Looks like we're in, guv'nor.
Brick Top: Goody gumdrops. Get us a cup of tea, would you, Errol?
Gorgeous George: It's a camp site, a pikey campsite...
Tommy: Ten points.
Gorgeous George: What we doing here?
Tommy: We're buying a caravan.
Gorgeous George: Off a pack of fuckin' pikeys? What's wrong with you? This will get messy.
Tommy: Well not if you're here.
Gorgeous George: Oh, you bastard! I fuckin' hate pikeys!
[from a deleted scene]
Errol: You're a dead man, Tony! You hear me? A fucking dead man!
Brick Top: Oi! What's going on in there?
Errol: He's pissed in my fucking pocket!
Brick Top: Oh, shut up, Errol. Get back in your fucking pram. Tony, ain't you house-trained?
Turkish: [to Brick Top] You've still got your fight.
Brick Top: No, all bets are off at the bookies, you can't change fighters. So no, I don't have my fight do I? You fucking prat!
Brick Top: Gimme that fucking shooter!
Pikey: I'll give you your shooter, ya cunt ya!
Mickey: I bet ya can box a little, can't ya sir? Aye, you look like a boxer.
Mickey: Deadly kick for a fat fucker, ya know that?
Gorgeous George: [throws Mickey into the fence] Cheeky bastard!
Bullet Tooth Tony: I'm driving down the road with your head stuck in my window. What does it look like I'm doin'?
Turkish: [Tommy has a gun in his trousers] What's to stop it blowing your bollocks off every time you sit down?
Vinny: Wow! That's a great load off me mind. Now, if you wouldn't mind telling me who the fuck you are, apart from someone who feeds people to pigs of course!
Turkish: I don't want to go in there. He's a dangerous bastard. Taken too many disco biscuits in the heat of Russian disputations. He's got as many of these nuts as he has those nuts.
Tommy: I don't care if he's got fucking hazelnuts. I want a gun that works, and I'm gonna tell him.
Turkish: My God, Tommy, you certainly got those minerals. Well, come on, then before "zee" Germans get here.
[Police are watching Tommy chase the dog]
Turkish: He loves that dog. Always playing silly games.
Avi: How do you wanna get rid of him?
Bullet Tooth Tony: Well, do you want to shoot him?
Avi: That's a little noisy, isn't it?
Bullet Tooth Tony: Well, do you want to stab him?
Avi: Well, that's a little cold-blooded, isn't it?
Bullet Tooth Tony: Do you want to kill him, or not?
Franky Four Fingers: So... what do you want for it?
Boris 'The Blade' Yurinov: Nothing.
Franky Four Fingers: OK... so, what do you want for it?
Vinny: Do they fire?
Sol: Of course, they fire.
Vinny: Yeah, but, how d'you know? I mean, they're replicas. What do you know about replicas?
[Sol fires his replica pistol at the roof of the car, blowing out the car windows. Everyone screams]
Vinny: What the fuck are you doing, Solomon?
Sol: Well you wanted to know whether or not they worked!
Vinny: I didn't mean try it in the car, Sol! You arsehole!
[Tyrone drives into Boris the Blade]
Brick Top: Of course, fucking of course. I wasn't asking, I was telling.