Put… the bunny… back… in the box.
On any other day, that might seem strange.
Sorry boss, but there’s only two men I trust. One of them’s me. The other’s not you.
Don’t you… I got nothing in common with them, with you. Don’t you talk to me! They were insane.
Murdering thirty people, semantics or not, is insane!
It’s my daughter’s birthday today. So please feel free not to share everything with me.
What was I thinking about? Oh, yeah, “yee-haw”, that’s right. I was just wondering what a black militant – that would be you – was doin’ takin’ orders from a white boy on a power trip? Don’t you think that’s strange?
They somehow managed to get every creep and freak in the universe onto this one plane. And then somehow managed to let them take it over. And then somehow managed to stick us right smack in the middle.
If this thing goes bad, Larkin, I don’t think my daughter will… understand. If you speak to my wife again, you tell her: that I love her. She’s my hummin’bird. But, I couldn’t leave a fallen man behind. You’ll do that for me, won’t you, Larkin?
Hey, man. I can think of anything I’d like…
…better, than to put a…
…bullet, into the brain-base here of every one of these…
FUCKERS! But the fact of the matter is how well do you know this Cindino? I don’t know him that well, myself. Just what I read. Like how he firebombed that Senator’s yacht with 2 of his cousins on board. Now, why would think he’d sweat about eliminating some hired guns after they have served their purpose, now think about that.
Hey, Cyrus. It’s your barbecue man, and it tastes good. But I was just explaining to Mr.
“Dog” here that if it was my barbecue, I would wait for that ol’ jumbo jet in the sky before I start killing my only leverage.
