Mickey Holliday:
Hi, Lee.
Lee Turner:
Fuck you!
Mickey Holliday:
I've heard some nice things about you.
Lee Turner:
I don't give a flying fuck what you've heard!
Mickey Holliday:
If there is anything I can do to make your stay in town more comfortable...
[
removing gun from shoulder holster and placing it on the table]
Mickey Holliday:
please don't hesitate to ask.
Ben London:
You can never really know the size of a person's brain until you have to clean it off the carpet, and let me tell you, Sleepy Joe had quite a brain.
Nick:
This truth shit is fun! Does anybody else got anything to share with the group?
Ben London:
Vic's dead... That is, you wish he were dead. And after he gets out tomorrow, you'll wish you were dead. When he went into that hospital a month ago, I thought it was your run-of-the-mill nervous breakdown. But Vic... is sick, Mick. Vic is a sick prick, Mick.
Ben London:
I am Brass-Balls Ben London! And oh, what a pair of balls had I!
Vic:
Ben, go home. Pack your bags, and leave town.
Ben London:
Nobody tells Ben London what to do any more!
Vic:
[
shoots Ben in the leg] Ben, hop home, pack your bags, and leave town.
Ben London:
I'll hop home whenever I fucking feel like it!
Vic:
[
shoots the other leg] Now, Ben, roll home, pack your bags, and leave town.
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