The Boondock Saints

SMECKER: What did he bring him in for?

AUGUSTUS: Needed an outsider. The package boy knows everyone. He'd spot our hitters a mile away.

SMECKER: Just for him?

AUGUSTUS: Well he's the one shooting up all his guys, right? He's scared of the kid. Says he's real good, got every available gun in the city up there.

SMECKER: Up where?

AUGUSTUS: Up his house. I don't know what's going on but I know it's gotta have something to do with this kid.

SMECKER: Oh fuck!

YAKAVETTA: There's ways around that.

AUGUSTUS: Go find one.

AUGUSTUS: Listen kid, I think you better understand who you're dealing with here.

YAKAVETTA: Yeah. I was only twelve or thirteen when you guys used to talk about him, like he was a ghost or something.

AUGUSTUS: Your dad and I used him three times over twenty years, only when everything went totally fucked. Believe me kid, you don't want this guy unless you are 100% sure you need him. He is... a fuckin' monster.

YAKAVETTA: Hey, I just...

AUGUSTUS: Don't start with your shit. Don't you talk to me. Oh, hey Uncle Gussy, thanks for years of service. Here's a gold watch and a job sniffing other guys' shit eight hours a day. What am I, a retired bus driver?

YAKAVETTA: I need Il Duce.

AUGUSTUS: The Duke? What did you do?

YAKAVETTA: This kid, this package boy could bring down the whole east coast. If he decides to turn states he could dismantle us... totally. But it looks like for now, he's content with just killing us one by one. And even worse the kid is good at it. I mean I had a prodigy on my hands the whole time and didn't even know it.

AUGUSTUS: Fuck you.

YAKAVETTA: Hey, Augustus, I need your help, I got a serious problem here. I'm not screwing around.

AUGUSTUS: I bounced you on my knee at family reunions, for Christ sakes. Your dad and me ran the whole east coast syndicate you snot-nosed little prick. And when you took the wheel, who was beside you?

MOM: Are ya ready?

BOTH: Aye.

MOM: Well listen, I know how my boys take ta scrappin' when they take ta drinkin'.

BOTH: Yes mother.

MOM: I mean it now. I carried the two of you little bastards around in my belly at the same time you ungrateful pissants. Ya ruined my girlish figure in one fell swoop, and then ya sucked me dry. My tits are saggin' down ta my ankles. I trip over em for Christ sakes, now ya listen ta me, NO FIGHTEN!

MOM: Lord's name.

BOTH: Mother Mary, full of grace.

MOM: What did you do, Connor?

CHAFFEY: Ah, Agent Smecker, we have a problem.

SMECKER: What?

CHAFFEY: The press is everywhere outside. They're going nuts for these guys. What do you want to do?

SMECKER: You're not being charged. It's up to you. Do you want to talk to them?

SMECKER: Look, look! I'm not saying one way or the other. Just be careful and go by the protocol on this one.

CHAFFEY: Any tips on where these guys may be?

SMECKER: Any word back from the E.R.s?

CHAFFEY: Are these me considered armed and dangerous?

SMECKER: Well, not armed. If they had guns, they'd have used them. But dangerous? Oh yeah.

SMECKER: Paraffin came up positive. And bullet holes are usually a big clue.

CHAFFEY: I can't find the second one, sir.

SMECKER: Look under the body.

CHAFFEY: Got it.

CHAFFEY: Yes sir.

SMECKER: Look in the trash around their hands. See if you can find me two bullet casings. 45's, if my eye serves me right. Don't disturb them. Mark them as they lay. Newman, root through this shit. If this was a sink find me some metal parts. Gimme a faucet or a drain cover or something.

ROCCO: You guys?

CONNOR: We're here brother.

ROCCO: You gotta keep going.

CONNOR: You little fuck. Let him go. I'll drop you right here.

ROCCO: Okay, just calm down. He could hurt us, brother. He could ruin the whole thing.

CONNOR: Let him go or I will deliver you, right now.

ROCCO: You won't do it Connor, you won't. You love me man.

ROCCO: They got nothing.

CONNOR: This guy is very sharp. If he hasn't figured us out yet, he will.

CONNOR: Shit.

ROCCO: What? What, that guy?

CONNOR: Look again for fuck sake!

ROCCO: I know what the fuck he looks like!

CONNOR: Who the fuck was he, Rocco? I know you fuckin' know!

ROCCO: Fuck you! I told you I never saw him before!

ROCCO: You guys gotta teach me that prayer, man. That's some good shit.

CONNOR: Forget it. It's a family prayer. My father, his father before him that sort of shit.

ROCCO: C'mon!

ROCCO: Oh man. You gotta let me do these guys. I'm such a moron. I gotta make up for the tit thing.

CONNOR: No way. I've been waitin' for this asshole.

ROCCO: Aw, c'mon. I gotta clear my family name here. I've brought shame to the house of Della Rocco.

ROCCO: What? What is it?

CONNOR: This place is like a scumbag yard sale.

CONNOR: What the fuck are you doing?

ROCCO: I-I'll tip her.

CONNOR: I guess we really don't have a system of deciding who.

ROCCO: MEEE! ME! I'm the guy! I know everyone, their habits, where they hang out, who they talk to. I know where they fuckin' live. We could kill everyone!

CONNOR: Yeah, well...

ROCCO: Oh, what the fuck? How do you guys decide who you're... I mean, who makes the cut? Is there a raffle or something?

CONNOR: Anybody see ya?

ROCCO: Fuck, man! I may as well have posted flyers. Right out in public, man.

ROCCO: What did I fuckin' do?... in the middle of the Lakeview.

CONNOR: Lakeview the deli? Oh, shit!

ROCCO: Pack your shit! We gotta get outta here! We gotta get out!

CONNOR: What happened?

ROCCO: I killed em! Oh, Jesus! I killed em all!!

ROCCO: She ain't been around in weeks anyhow.

CONNOR: Listen. Something's been bothering me about last night.

ROCCO: What?

CONNOR: Well... what if your boss knew how many guys were supposed to be there... in that room?

ROCCO: What are you saying?

CONNOR: Think about it man. Nine men, six bullets.

ROCCO: You think they sold me out? No way.

CONNOR: He probably knew you'd end up nailing the fat guy, maybe one or two more, but he had to know you weren't walking out of there. Figure it out. Shooter's dead on the scene. No in-depth investigation. It'd slide right off his back. 'Cause as much as I love ya, you're not exactly Don Corleone. What would he be losing? A thirty- five year old delivery boy?

ROCCO: No, no. That's just not the way things are done. Besides, how's he know I don't just get in there see there's too many and just serve em their fuckin' food and beat it?

CONNOR: He knows you, man. He knows all you want is to move up. That's all. A smooth hitter woulda gone in there, seen it was a wash and slipped out. But a guy like you? Knowin' this is your only chance? Waitin' eighteen years?

ROCCO: No. No man. That's... that's... you don't know what you're talking about. That's bullshit. I know these guys. I mean, thanks for your concern, but that just ain't the thing of it.

CONNOR: Do me a favor and roll it around for a bit on your way in.

ROCCO: No, look. No rolling. Nothing needs to be rolled.

CONNOR: Donna's gonna be angry about her cat.

ROCCO: Shit. She's on every drug know to man. She'd have sold that thing for a dime bag. Screw her. But I do kinda feel like an ass-hole.

CONNOR: You sound real remorseful.

CONNOR: Climb the corporate ladder, boy. Don Rocco.

ROCCO: Fuck it! I'm doing it. I deserve it. I've been working for those fat bastards since I was in high school and look at this place.

ROCCO: Anybody you think is evil?

CONNOR: Yes.

ROCCO: Don't you think that's a little psycho? A little weird?

CONNOR: Weird, huh?... Know what I think is weird? Decent men with loving families go home every day after work. They turn on the news and see rapists, murderers, and child molesters all getting out of prison.

ROCCO: What the fuck are you doing here? What, huh!? WHAT? WHAT? WHAT? ANSWERS! I WANT FUCKIN' ANSWERS!

CONNOR: Get a hold of yourself, man.

ROCCO: What did you do?! Fuckin'... what the fuckin' fuck! Who the fuck, fucked this fuckin'? fuck. How did you two fuckin', fucks?......... FUCK!!!

CONNOR: Certainly illustrates the diversity of the word.

ROCCO: Poppa Joe said there was only two. In and out. Boy, you guys sure did a good job. You're good, huh? Cool masks. Where'd you get them?

CONNOR: Let's do him right here.

ROCCO: Oh, God! Don't kill me! We're on the same side! The boss musta sent you in as back up, huh? Oh, shit, please! I'm Rocco. I'm the funny man. They call me the funny fuckin' man!

CONNOR: Where's your gun?

ROCCO: Chest pocket. Shit!

CONNOR: This is a six-shooter.

MOM: Still bickerin' over that, huh?

CONNOR: Come on, ma. Out with it. Who came out first?

MOM: All right, I suppose you have the right ta know.

CONNOR: Yeah, we promise.

MOM: Well, there's my boys. Shit. I gotta go. Looks like I caused a ruckus with that shot. Half the damn neighborhood is comin'.

CONNOR: Well, we tried ta make friends and she gave me a shot ta the nuts.

MOM: What... the dirty bitch! I hope ya trounced her a good one!

CONNOR: Well, I didn't but...

CONNOR: How's Uncle Sibeal?

MOM: Well, you know how it is with him. Always complainin' he's never turnin' a profit on St. Patty's. Whole damn family goes down there with no money, cause we know he can't bear ta charge us.

CONNOR: No ma! No!

MOM: BLAME...

CONNOR: What?! What are you doin'?

MOM: I want ta tell ya one last thing before I pull the trigger.

CONNOR: Pull the trigger?! Have ya lost it woman?! Now just calm down here.

MOM: I finally found your Da's army revolver, Connor.

CONNOR: What the hell are you doin' with Da's gun!?

MOM: It's all your fault. Both you little bastards. I was a fool to believe you would bring me any peace. The day your Da left us when you were almost too young to remember, he said the two of you would do me right and make me proud, but he was wrong and I got nothin' ta live for.

CONNOR: Mother, what are you sayin'? You're talkin' crazy here.

CONNOR: Mother, is that you?

MOM: Is that worthless brother of your there? I want you both ta hear this.

CONNOR: Ma, what's wrong?

CONNOR: Hello.

MOM: Connor, is that you?

CONNOR: Well, the light caught the side of his face for a second. And it looked like he had a gray beard, maybe... late fifties, early sixties.

SMECKER: So you're telling me it was one guy with six guns? A-and he was a senior fucking citizen?

CONNOR: I think it's better if we find this man before he finds us again.

SMECKER: I'll see what I can do. How do I get in touch with you?

CONNOR: We're going to hit Poppa Joe tonight, right in the comfort of his own home. Then we move on to New York. It's getting a bit hot for us here.

SMECKER: Be careful.

CONNOR: I'll call you tonight, afterwards.

SMECKER: Well, we could try the bag over the head thing. Walk you right out the front.

CONNOR: Our mother can see through bags.

SMECKER: So, how is it that you guys are fluent in Russian?

CONNOR: We paid attention in school.

SMECKER: Know any other languages?

SMECKER: You guys are not under oath, here. I am assuming you knew these two guys from before, huh?

CONNOR: We... met them last night.

SMECKER: They had some pretty interesting bandages. Know anything about that?

CONNOR: Would someone please come over here and...

DOC: Fuck!

CONNOR: me up the...

DOC: Ass!

CONNOR: Hold this shit for us, Doc. We'll be comin back for it when we get out.

DOC: Right.

DOC: What are you going to do?

CONNOR: We're going to turn ourselves in. It was self defense.

DOC: y-y-yeah that's what he said.

CONNOR: We're alive.

DOC: An F.B.I. agent came by the bar. He left me his c-c, he left me his c-c, he left me this.

CONNOR: Now, you will receive us.

MURPHY: We do not ask for your poor or your hungry.

CONNOR: We do not want your tired and sick.

MURPHY: It is your corrupt we claim.

CONNOR: It is your evil, who will be sought by us.

MURPHY: With every breath we shall hunt them down.

CONNOR: Each day we will spill their blood till it rains down from the skies.

MURPHY: Do not kill, do not rape, do not steal. These are principles which every man of every faith can embrace.

CONNOR: These are not polite suggestions. They are codes of behavior and those that ignore them will pay the dearest cost.

MURPHY: There are varying degrees of evil. We urge you lesser forms of filth Not to push the bounds and cross over into true corruption... into our domain.

CONNOR: For if you do, there will come the day when you look behind you and see we three. And on that day you will reap it.

MURPHY: And we will send you to whatever God you wish.

CONNOR: He isn't to be touched.

MURPHY: He's a good man.

MURPHY: That's the guy that got us off the hook with the "Checkov" thing.

CONNOR: And he is one smart man.

MURPHY: There he goes. Okay, gentlemen. Are we ready to bring this man into the light? Are we ready to truly do the work of the Lord?

CONNOR: A-fuckin'-men!

MURPHY: Give the guy a shot.

CONNOR: Rocco, this is the real deal. We must kill without hesitation, without guilt or remorse. Evil man, dead man.

MURPHY: We've teamed up with a sex offender.

CONNOR: So, when are you getting a plastic fuck doll?

MURPHY: So what do you think?

CONNOR: I'm strangely comfortable with it.

CONNOR: Who did you kill?

MURPHY: Holy shit. Who? How many?

MURPHY: Where are you goin'? Did you tell him?

CONNOR: Yes.

MURPHY: Then what the fuck?

MURPHY: Mafiosos getting caught with 20 kilos and walkin' on bail the same day.

CONNOR: Little girls catchin' stray bullets in their heads, playin' hopscotch in their front yards. And everyone thinks the same thing... Someone should just go kill those motherfuckers.

MURPHY: Kill em all. Admit it, even you've thought about it.

MURPHY: Nine bodies.

CONNOR: Oh, you're good. What were you gonna do? Laugh the last three to death, funny man?

MURPHY: That was way easier than I thought.

CONNOR: Aye.

MURPHY: On TV ya always get that asshole that jumps behind the couch.

CONNOR: Yeah, and ya gotta shoot at him for ten minutes.

MURPHY: Oh, we're good man.

CONNOR: Yes, we are.

CONNOR: We're doing some serious shit here. Now, get a hold of yourself, asshole.

MURPHY: Asshole!? I'm not the rope-totin' Charlie Bronson wanna-be that's getting' us lost!

CONNOR: Sh, sh! Fuck you!

MURPHY: Where the fuck are you going?

CONNOR: We'll find it. Just calm down.

MURPHY: No, fuck you. This rope is bullshit. I'm sweatin' my ass off draggin' this stupid thing around. Must weigh 30 pounds.

CONNOR: See. I told you there'd be a shaft.

MURPHY: Just like on TV.

MURPHY: Nervous?

CONNOR: A bit.

MURPHY: Me, too.

CONNOR: Is that right, Rambo?

MURPHY: All right, get the stupid fuckin' rope.

CONNOR: Know what we need, man?... some rope.

MURPHY: For what?

CONNOR: Charlie Bronson's always got rope.

MURPHY: What?

CONNOR: Yeah, these guys always got a lot of rope strapped around em in the movies and they always end up using it.

MURPHY: Oh, you've lost it, haven't ya?

CONNOR: I'm serious.

MURPHY: Me too. That's stupid. Name one thing we're gonna need it for.

CONNOR: I don't know they just always need it.

MURPHY: What is all this "they" shit? This ain't a movie.

CONNOR: Destroy all that which is evil...

MURPHY: ...so that which is good may flourish

CONNOR: Absolutely not.

MURPHY: No pictures, either.

CONNOR: I have no idea. Maybe someone saw and talked.

MURPHY: German. Not in our neighborhood, man. A hundred percent Irish. No one talks to cops. Period.

CONNOR: Spanish. Then I guess he's just real... real good.

MURPHY: How do you think he figured all this out without talking to us?

CONNOR: Italian.

CONNOR: "Now, that wasn't too polite, was it?"

MURPHY: "I'm afraid we can't let that one go, Ivan."

CONNOR: Listen fellas, Y'know he's got 'til this week's end. Ya don't have ta be hard asses, do ya?

MURPHY: Yeah, it's St. Patty's day. Everyone's Irish tonight. Now, why don't ya pull up a stool and have a drink with us?

CONNOR: A p-penny saved is worth two in the bush.

MURPHY: Don't c-cross the road if ya can't get out of the kitchen.

MURPHY: "What do we tell him about the guns and money?"

CONNOR: "We just got up and left. Bum musta rolled them before the police got there."

MURPHY: Okay. We're ready.

MURPHY: All right, love ya ma. Listen, before ya go just give us the goods, eh?

CONNOR: Yeah. It's been twenty-seven years.

CONNOR: Oh, Jesus.

MURPHY: I gave him his first lesson in sensitivity toward the fairer sex just today.

CONNOR: Don't even do it, ya bastard.

MURPHY: He got beat up by a girl.

CONNOR: If that was a girl I want ta see some papers. She had ta be just preoperative for Christ sakes.

CONNOR: Aaaww, shit!... evil woman!

MURPHY: Lord have mercy. That was a good one ma.

MURPHY: No fuckin' hot water man. That...

CONNOR: Shut it. It's Ma.

CONNOR: Hey Murphy?

MURPHY: Aye.

CONNOR: How many feminists does it take to screw in a light bulb?

MURPHY: How many?

CONNOR: Two. One ta screw it in and one ta suck my cock.

CONNOR: I do believe the Monsignor finally got a point.

MURPHY: Aye.

ROZ: Baumgartner sound Irish to you, fuck face?

CONNOR: Now look Rozengurtle, we're sorry. Just relax.

ROZ: I knew you two pricks would give me problems. Give me shit cause I'm a woman. I'm not gonna take your male dominance bullshit!

CONNOR: Oh, come on now Rozengurtle. I was just tryin' ta get a rise outta ya.

CONNOR: Okay, just cut off as much fat as you can as it goes by and the rule of thumb here is...

ROZ: Rule of thumb?

CONNOR: Yeah?

ROZ: Do you know where that term comes from? In the early 1900's it was legal for men to beat their wives as long as they used a stick no wider than their thumb.

ROZ: I prefer to be called Rozengurtle by men.

CONNOR: Okay then... let's get ya started.

SMECKER: The shooter knew these guys, huh?

DOLLY: How do you figure?

SMECKER: Friends, Gentlemen. They were friends.

SMECKER: And it's the same story over here. Why the crossover? Theories.

DOLLY: That's just fucking weird. I have no idea.

DOLLY: Maybe the three of them had something in common.

SMECKER: No. This guy is big time. These two are street-walking scum.

DOLLY: Only two did the shooting. So what are you thinking, Russian retaliation?

SMECKER: Nah, too quick half their infrastructure got taken out at the Copley plaza. Besides, if you're a hitter, you're either working for the Russians or the Italians. There's no riding the fence. Our little theory from last night just got blown to shit. Something... new is going on here.

DOLLY: She was in here when it went down.

SMECKER: Can she I.D. them?

DOLLY: They were wearing masks.

SMECKER: Of course they were. How many?

DOLLY: Three.

DOLLY: So, what do we do now?

SMECKER: That depends. You either do your job or get ethical.

SMECKER: And number three, Dolly.

DOLLY: Uh... two shooters!

SMECKER: Fan-fuckin-tastic!

DOLLY: Holy shit. You're the first one that's ever got that.

SMECKER: Yeah, well... I'm an expert in name- ology.

ROCCO: Your what?! Your fuckin' what?!

DONNA: My, my...

ROCCO: Your what, bitch? I'll shoot myself in the head, you can tell me that cats name! Go ahead... Your what? Your precious little...

DONNA: Pee...Per...Man.

ROCCO: Peeperman? WRONG? What color was it?!!!

DONNA: It was... It was...

ROCCO: Male or female, bitch?!!

ROCCO: What?

DONNA: Where's my cat?

ROCCO: I killed your fuckin' cat, you druggie bitch!

DONNA: You... oh god, why?

ROCCO: I felt it would bring closure to our relationship!

DONNA: You killed my... my...

ROCCO: No! Fuck you! You start getting excited! We gotta fucking go!

DONNA: Rocco!

SMECKER: These two fucking scenes are related. Too many coincidences. Same day? Five hours apart? Dead mobsters on both scenes. Now, why did he kill the bartender?

DUFFY: Crime of passion. He just went nuts. He would have shot everyone in here. He just ran out of bullets.

SMECKER: Duffy. This look like a fucking post office to you? This guy came in here with intent. Maybe he didn't know exactly what he was gonna do but he had a pretty good idea. The bartender wasn't a fucking accident.

DUFFY: Well, we didn't get any help on that. A lot of people saw it. Nobody's talking.

SMECKER: Fucking figures. Look, are you guys seeing the pattern here? We got big questions at both of these crime scenes, with no answers. WHY did they kill the guys in the other two booths? WHY did he do the bartender? It would seem unnecessary, even stupid. God, I hate cold crime scenes! I'm fucking leaving now. And do me a favor, tell me when the next guy dies, cause these guys are not done yet.

DUFFY: Jesus. I just can't think anymore. That scene over at the coffee shop today tapped me out.

SMECKER: What?

DUFFY: A guy went nuts over off of Commonwealth today. Shot three guys to death in a coffee shop in broad daylight. Fled the scene. Don't have much on him.

SMECKER: Why was I not informed of this?

SMECKER: Allow me to enlighten you gentlemen to the protocol of the porno industry, as I'm sure you've never been in one of these places before. A man goes into the booth, puts the money in the slot. The dancer gets it on the other side. She hits the button, door goes up, now there is only glass between you and it's little fireman time.

DUFFY: No way they could have seen it?

SMECKER: Those doors were down... which means this. They looked down in through the peep hole, saw these guys and opened the doors from the inside. Pop, pop, pop, right through the glass. Why?

SMECKER: Now, what is this going to look like to those who do not know what I just told you?

DUFFY: It's gonna look like the bad guys are killing each other.

SMECKER: And is there an American, shit is there a man seated among us that hasn't thought about it many times, let's just put them all on an island, give them guns and let them kill each other. This is our wet dream come true. You can expect federal and local law enforcement to go only deep enough to satisfy the law, then bury it from here on out.

SMECKER: Now stay with me, boys. What did they do to make two such identical wounds? Did one guy put him on his knees, pop a cap in, sit him back up and shoot him again the same way? No. Two men of similar height dropped this guy down, each put some iron to his head and boom! That's all she fuckin' wrote!

DUFFY: What about one guy with two guns?

SMECKER: Possible, but unlikely. The angles are too extreme. A guy holding two guns to the back of your head is gonna shoot straight ahead. He wouldn't cock out his elbows, makes no sense. Besides, you telling me one guy came in here and killed eight men with eight extremely well aimed shots in just a few seconds? No way. Had to be at least two.

SMECKER: The two bullets went in here, through the top of the skull, criss-crossed and exited through the eyeballs. This one clue tells us three distinct facts. Number one... Duffy.

DUFFY: They shot him at a downward angle. They put him on his knees.

SMECKER: Excellent! Number two. Greenly.

SMECKER: So Duffy, got any theories to go with that... tie.

DUFFY: These guys were pros. I think they were coming for one target, the fag man, he was the...

SMECKER: The what man?

DUFFY: The fat man.

SMECKER: Well, Freud was right. So you think they came for the fag man, huh? And what do you base this upon?

DUFFY: He was the only one done right. Two in the back of the head.

SMECKER: And the pennies?

DUFFY: New hitman wants to leave his mark

SMECKER: That's a possibility. Y'know you Boston cops are perking up. That's two sound theories in one day, neither of which deal with abnormally sized men. Another possibility is that they were placed there with religious intent.

DUFFY: Yeah. Some cultures still put pennies in the eyes of the dead, or silver.

SMECKER: The Greeks. The Italians.

DUFFY: The Sicilians.

DUFFY: So what are you thinkin' here?

SMECKER: Really want to know?

GREENLY: What if it was just one guy with six guns?

SMECKER: Why don't you let me do the thinking, huh, genius?

GREENLY: They weren't related. The guy used a 38. No pennies. Totally amateur.

SMECKER: Who were the victims?

GREENLY: A couple of peons for the mob and...

SMECKER: Oh that's just BEAUTIFUL! All the scumbags in the quiet city of Boston start dropping dead and you think it's unrelated?! Greenly, the day I want the Boston Police doing my thinking for me, I will have a fucking tag on my toe! Now, get me a squad car and get me over there. I want the crime scene photos and any witness statements. NOW!

SMECKER: After talking to the dancer we know that their mark was the guy in the middle booth. After she watches them whack him, she passes out. Why the two extra victims?

GREENLY: Witness?

SMECKER: No way they could have seen it.

GREENLY: Uh. Shit, I, uh...

SMECKER: It tells us that he was the last to die. All these men Were carrying. They came in, dropped all in seconds and then took their time with fag man. Didn't they, Duffy?! They sure as fuck did!

SMECKER: While Greenly's getting coffee, anybody else want anything?

GREENLY: Shit! Shit!

SMECKER: How many bodies, Greenly?

GREENLY: Eight.

SMECKER: He's struck again, hasn't he, Greenly?

GREENLY: Why do you always disrespect me like that?

SMECKER: Respect is earned, Greenly, never given. Guys like you should have to follow me around squabbling for the scraps from my table.

GREENLY: Who the...

SMECKER: Twist of lemon!

GREENLY: Chief, what the fuck is this?

SMECKER: Sweet-n-low!

GREENLY: That's one big fuckin' shoe!... and think about it. Of all the ways to kill a guy, crushin' him to death. That's very particular. You don't get many of those. I dunno. I feel something big here. I wouldn't be surprised if we see more of these turning up.

SMECKER: Brilliant. So now we got a Huge guy theory and Serial crusher theory. Top fucking notch. What's your name?

GREENLY: Detective Greenly. Who the fuck are you?

MOM: Promise me boys.

MURPHY: We promise.

MOM: But he's been havin' himself a nip or two as well... Been up the waitress' skirt all night, poor girl.

MURPHY: Well you tell him ta take it easy with that. He's gotta learn ta respect women the way Connor does.

MOM: It's only 11:00 here boys so I got lot's more drinkin' ta do with your worthless relatives down at the Anvil.

MURPHY: Just called ta torture us did ya?

MURPHY: Oh, she's quite proud of herself.

MOM: Okay, seriously, both you listen ta me now.

MURPHY: Oh my god!

MOM: I...

MURPHY: What the...?

MOM: I got it ta my head now. I got it ta my head now.

MURPHY: We'll keep going, Roc.

ROCCO: You'll make it outta here. You can't ever stop, not ever.

ROCCO: Hey! We gotta talk about this early morning church shit.

MURPHY: We have to go now. We're on the lamb.

MURPHY: You bet your ass he will.

ROCCO: Well, I'd say that makes him a lia- fuckin-bility.

ROCCO: Shit!... Shit! He ain't here.

MURPHY: What the fuck do you mean?

ROCCO: I mean he ain't here.

MURPHY: Well he sure as fuck knew you!

ROCCO: Fuck you both! Ya ask me, he was aiming at you!

ROCCO: Worst day of my life, man.

MURPHY: Well, I'm sold.

MURPHY: You look like Mush Mouth from Fat Albert.

ROCCO: Fine! Fuck it! When we're done she can I.D. me. I don't care. Just tryin' to be professional, but no...

MURPHY: Well, truth be known, those first ones just kinda fell into our laps.

ROCCO: Well, what'ya do?

ROCCO: Vincenzo, that fat motherfucker, Yakavetta's right hand. He's the one who set me up. Then he went around shooting his mouth off, telling everyone I was as good as dead. He goes in there every Wednesday night around 10:00, he jerks off in the same booth to the same titty dancer. Never misses.

MURPHY: So?

ROCCO: So let's kill the motherfucker. I mean, what are you guys... like that's your new thing right?

MURPHY: Liberating isn't it?

ROCCO: Y'know it is, a bit.

ROCCO: Those rat fucks! All of them were all laughing at me man!

MURPHY: You sure you killed them?

ROCCO: Hurry the fuck up!

MURPHY: This is some crazy shit, man!

ROCCO: Those cocksuckers sold me out!

MURPHY: Hello?

ROCCO: Hey, Murph.

MURPHY: Roc. You okay?

ROCCO: Yeah. Anybody call for me?

MURPHY: No. You sure you're okay?

ROCCO: I'm fuckin' fine. Catch you on the flip side.

MURPHY: Hello?

ROCCO: Hey Murph.

MURPHY: Roc. You okay?

ROCCO: Yeah. Anybody call for me?

MURPHY: No. You sure you're okay?

ROCCO: I'm fuckin' fine. Catch you on the flip side.

MURPHY: Fuck it! What kind of flowers ya want at your funeral? Ya dumb Wop. This is the last time I'll see you. Bye-bye ya stupid son of a bitch.

ROCCO: I'll be back at 9:00.

ROCCO: Hey. You don't know that shit for sure.

MURPHY: Oh, Jesus. You're such a fuckin' retard!

ROCCO: Fuck you!

MURPHY: Use your brain for once. Is it so unbelievable they don't care about you? You are fuckin' dead, you go in there today. Dead!

ROCCO: Oh yeah. You two fuckin' Micks know what's going on, huh? Fuck you!

ROCCO: You fuckin' guys. You ruined me. I'm fuckin' done. Permanent package boy.

MURPHY: Who says that? You could take credit on it.

ROCCO: What are you serious?

MURPHY: Yeah, fuck it. If you think about it, it's all you can do really. You can't tell him it was us. Go in braggin' and shit.

ROCCO: Well fuck, you guys could do this every day.

MURPHY: We're like 7-Eleven. We ain't always doing business, but we're always open.

ROCCO: This is some heavy shit. This is like Lone Ranger-heavy man. Fuck it! There's so much shit that pisses me off. You guys should recruit 'cause I am sick and fuckin' tired of walkin' down the street waitin' for one of these assholes to get me, y'know?

MURPHY: Hallelujah, Jaffar.

ROCCO: So you're not just talkin' mob guys. You're talkin' anyone, right? Even like pimps and drug dealers and all that shit?

MURPHY: Right now.

ROCCO: Don't kill me. Oh shit, please no. I'm Rocco. I'm the funny man!... the funny man... the funny.

PRIEST: The laws of God are higher than the laws of man.

SMECKER: Yes! Yes! I was thinking that, too. No. I was feeling it. All I needed was to hear you say it! Amen! I'll help them.

PRIEST: Forgive me father.

SMECKER: Thank you, Father, thank you. Whatever. Goodbye, amen.

SMECKER: You're right.

PRIEST: Those who do not act are in a constant state of ethical indecision.

SMECKER: I want to stand for what I believe in, father.

PRIEST: Then you must find out what your beliefs are.

SMECKER: I believe these young men are right.

PRIEST: You know them personally?

SMECKER: Yes.

PRIEST: Do you think they would harm an innocent man, for any reason?

SMECKER: No. They would never do that.

SMECKER: Has he now?

PRIEST: You have entered the house of the Lord of your own free will speaking of beliefs and feelings. Is it so much to believe that God has brought you here?

SMECKER: I guess not.

PRIEST: It is easy to be sarcastic about religion. It is harder to take small hints from God, your feelings and listen to them... to take a stand.

SMECKER: But in this day and age I believe what they do is... necessary. I feel it is... correct.

PRIEST: You believe?

SMECKER: Yes.

PRIEST: You feel?

SMECKER: Yes.

PRIEST: You feel? A soul is what gives you feelings. Happiness, guilt, right or wrong. It is a conduit through which the Lord speaks to us. You felt that your answers would be here in the house of God today. You feel these men are necessary. The Lord has spoken to you twice this day.

PRIEST: Why have you come to a church for council if you're not religious?

SMECKER: Why have I come to a church? I never have before. I guess I just... felt I should.

PRIEST: What is it my son?

SMECKER: It's ethics. I put evil men behind bars, but the law has miles of red tape and loopholes for these... cocksuckers to slip through. I've found out there are these two young men who fix the situation with an iron fist. As if they have God's permission. But what they do is wrong and I should arrest them... technically.

PRIEST: God's permission? God doesn't...

SMECKER: Hello? You there?

PRIEST: Y-Yes my son.

ROCCO: I wouldn't have, uh, killed you, Father. Dominus Ominus. Remember, you're bound. You can't talk about this... to anyone.

PRIEST: Just go!

ROCCO: Do your thing Father. Don't fuck this up.

PRIEST: What do you want me to say?

ROCCO: Just be natural, goddamit.

PRIEST: How long since your last confession, my son?

ROCCO: Father, I'll do you right here.

PRIEST: God have mercy on my soul.

PRIEST: Don't do this my son.

ROCCO: Open it!

PRIEST: Have you no fear of God?

ROCCO: That's who I'm doing this for, now open the fuckin' thing.

ROCCO: You gonna do what I say, got it?

PRIEST: Yes.

ROCCO: I'm sorry you're gonna hafta see this. Don't look at me!

PRIEST: I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I didn't see.

ROCCO: Shut up! Shut the fuck up!

YAKAVETTA: Continue the joke.

ROCCO: He says, "What's your third wish?" And the guys says, "I-I want you to beat me half to death."

YAKAVETTA: I always see you talking to the boys and making them laugh. They always come around telling me what a crack up you are. What is it they call you?

ROCCO: The... The funny man.

YAKAVETTA: The funny man. Well, I got a new job for you, just for now. Roc, I'm having a real shitty day. I'm depressed. Tell me a funny story or a joke.

ROCCO: Uh. Okay... um... you hear the one about the, no fuck that one... uh... oh! oh! Well... shit. Okay, there's a white guy. He's walkin' along the beach and he finds a, a pot, y'know and ah, he rubs it and this genie pops out. But this genie, he's a ni... he's a black guy.

YAKAVETTA: He's a nigger.

ROCCO: Yeah. And uh, he's pissed off. He says, "Why you crackers always gotta find my mother fuckin' pot? And he tells him he's gonna grant all his three wishes but he's gonna give all the black guys...

YAKAVETTA: Hey, Rocco, wait. Come back here.

ROCCO: Yeah boss?

ROCCO: Poppa Joe, you want me to go now?

YAKAVETTA: Yeah. Thanks, Rocco. See ya.

VINCENZO: I'm Rocco. I'm the funny man. Heee Hee. I'm so fuckin' funny. Hee Hee.

ROCCO: Fuck you Vincenzo.

VINCENZO: Tell me a joke funny man. Hee Hee.

ROCCO: I caught your show down at the velvet room at the Holiday Inn, loved it when you busted into Viva Las Vegas.

VINCENZO: Well, it's the funny man. Give it here, package boy.

ROCCO: Joey Bevo said it was important. Said I had to give it to him myself.

VINCENZO: Gimme the fuckin' thing. Now sit the fuck down!