- Wilson: How you doin' then? All right, are you? Now look, squire, you're the guv'nor here, I can see that. I'm in your manor now. So there's no need to get your knickers in a twist. Whatever this bollocks is that's going down between you and that slag Valentine, it's got nothing to do with me. I couldn't care less. Alright, mate? Let me explain. When I was in prison - second time - uh, no, telling a lie, third stretch, yeah, third, third - there was this screw what really had it in for me, and that geezer was top of my list. Two years after I got sprung, I sees him in Holland Park. He's sittin' on a bench feedin' bloody pigeons. There was no-one about, I could've gone up behind him and snapped his fuckin' neck, *wallop!* But I left it. I could've knobbled him, but I didn't. 'Cause what I thought I wanted wasn't what I wanted. What I thought I was thinkin' about was something else. I didn't give a toss. It didn't matter, see? This berk on the bench wasn't worth my time. It meant sod-all in the end, 'cause you gotta make a choice: when to do something, and when to let it go. When it matters, and when it don't. Bide your time. That's what prison teaches you, if nothing else. Bide your time, and everything becomes clear, and you can act accordingly.
- Head DEA Agent: There's one thing I don't understand. The thing I don't understand is every motherfuckin' word you're saying.
- Terry Valentine: Did you ever dream about a place you never really recall being to before? A place that maybe only exists in your imagination? Some place far away, half remembered when you wake up. When you were there, though, you knew the language. You knew your way around. *That* was the sixties.
- [pause]
- Terry Valentine: No. It wasn't that either. It was just '66 and early '67. That's all there was.
- Head DEA Agent: There's one thing I don't understand. The thing I don't understand is every motherfuckin' word you're saying.
- Wilson: Can't be too careful nowadays, y'know? Lot of tea leaves about, know what I mean?
- Warehouse Foreman: Excuse me?
- Wilson: Tea leaves... thieves.
- Uncle John: How much?
- Stacy: Five grand.
- Uncle John: Heyy.
- Stacy: Got half in my pocket.
- Uncle John: We makin' trouble for someone?
- Stacy: Yep.
- Uncle John: Which kind?
- Stacy: [pause] ... the forever kind.
- Jim Avery: How do you keep getting so lucky, Terry?
- Terry Valentine: I learned how to skate when I was a little boy.
- Stacy: Why don't they make shows about people's daily lives you'd be interested in watching? You know, like "Sick Old Man" or "Skinny Little Weakling." "Big Fat Guy." Wouldn't you watch a show called "Big Fat Guy"? I'd watch that fucking show.
- Excited Guy: [speaking to Valentine] That first Christopher Cross album? Wow, that record really changed my life.
- Wilson: They were together how long?
- Ed: Five years, a long time.
- Wilson: There you go. Jenny must have liked him.
- Ed: Jenny would say, "Hey, here's my friend Eddie." He'd shake my hand and everything, but the guy wouldn't even see me, you know what I mean? Jenny told me she met him at a beach, got blinded by his smile. Can you believe that shit, man? That son of a bitch never smiled at me!
- Stacy: This is un-fucking-professional, man.
- Jim Avery: Well you see, a successful man like me has limitations. I lose touch with the street level so, I have to depend on a smart boy like you. A lot closer to the nitty and the gritty than I am.
- Stacy: Hey, fuck you, Mr. whatever-your-name-is, alright? This is a lifestyle I embrace.
- [uniformed officers leaving as Avery enters the home]
- Jim Avery: What did you tell them?
- Terry Valentine: I told them that a long time employee flipped out. That he had drug problems, and he refused counseling- which as it happens is true- and he... committed suicide. One of the guests tried to stop him. Jim, how the fuck do you stop Gordon at four hundred pounds?
- Jim Avery: That was good. That was good. Good. He's heavier than that now, isn't he?
- Stacy: I got a guy on the inside.
- Uncle John: Who's that?
- Stacy: You know that putz, Tom, from Seattle?
- Uncle John: Tom... Tom Johanssen?
- Stacy: Yeah, from Seattle. I sent him to Avery.
- Uncle John: What'd he say?
- Stacy: What'd he say? He said they're taking a road trip up the coast, you know. Him and Avery, a couple guys.
- Uncle John: You think we oughta hit this English guy again?
- Stacy: Yeah, man. Yeah! If he hasn't gotten whacked in Bucktown, we might still have our aces. I just can't fucking figure out who this guy is, you know? A courier, a buyer, seller. Anyway, Avery wants him. Those jigs wanted him. You can bet your ass there's a briefcase somewhere.
- Uncle John: A briefcase. So what do you think's in it?
- Stacy: Drugs, cash, whatever- both if we're lucky, you know?
- Wilson: [jostled in a car speeding away from Valentine's home] Steady on, Fangio.
- Ed: Man you steady on, man. What the fuck you do back there? You really didn't cap the guy, did you? Did you?
- Wilson: That would've been too easy.
- Ed: Too easy?
- Wilson: He's gotta know why.
- Ed: You think a fucking guy like that ever will?
- Wilson: [looking through binoculars] Looks like he's brought in the 'eavy mob.
- Ed: You're kidding me.
- Wilson: Extra muscle. Bodyguards. They look right out of Wallister. You should see 'em. Patrolling up and down the front of the house. They're done up like fuckin' Nassau Cavalry.
- Ed: Let me see! Let me see!
- [takes the binoculars]
- Ed: Those are valets, man.
- Wilson: Valets? What do you mean, valets? Who does he think he is? The Marquess of fuckin' Tavistock?
- Ed: Valets, man. Valets. They park cars, you know. They're having a party, looks like.
- Wilson: Oi...
- [foreman hands over Wilson to three thugs after receiving a parting shot to the groin]
- Warehouse Thug: Want me to... call an ambulance?
- Warehouse Foreman: NOOO!