Mr. Brown: Let me tell you what 'Like a Virgin' is about. It's all about a girl who digs a guy with a big dick. The entire song. It's a metaphor for big dicks.
Mr. Blonde: No, no. It's about a girl who is very vulnerable. She's been fucked over a few times. Then she meets some guy who's really sensitive...
Mr. Brown: Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa... Time out Greenbay. Tell that fucking bullshit to the tourists.
Joe: Toby... Who the fuck is Toby? Toby...
Mr. Brown: 'Like a Virgin' is not about this sensitive girl who meets a nice fella. That's what "True Blue" is about, now, granted, no argument about that.
Mr. Orange: Which one is 'True Blue'?
Nice Guy Eddie: 'True Blue' was a big ass hit for Madonna. I don't even follow this Tops In Pops shit, and I've at least heard of "True Blue".
Mr. Orange: Look, asshole, I didn't say I ain't heard of it. All I asked was how does it go? Excuse me for not being the world's biggest Madonna fan.
Mr. Blonde: Personally, I can do without her.
Mr. Blue: I like her early stuff. You know, 'Lucky Star', 'Borderline' - but once she got into her 'Papa Don't Preach' phase, I don't know, I tuned out.
Mr. Brown: Hey, you guys are making me lose my... train of thought here. I was saying something, what was it?
Joe: Oh, Toby was this Chinese girl, what was her last name?
Mr. White: What's that?
Joe: I found this old address book in a jacket I ain't worn in a coon's age. What was that name?
Mr. Brown: What the fuck was I talking about?
Mr. Pink: You said 'True Blue' was about a nice girl, a sensitive girl who meets a nice guy, and that 'Like a Virgin' was a metaphor for big dicks.
Mr. Brown: Lemme tell you what 'Like a Virgin' is about. It's all about this cooze who's a regular fuck machine, I'm talking morning, day, night, afternoon, dick, dick, dick, dick, dick, dick, dick, dick, dick.
Mr. Blue: How many dicks is that?
Mr. White: A lot.
Mr. Brown: Then one day she meets this John Holmes motherfucker and it's like, whoa baby, I mean this cat is like Charles Bronson in the 'Great Escape', he's digging tunnels. Now, she's gettin' the serious dick action and she's feeling something she ain't felt since forever. Pain. Pain.
Joe: Chew? Toby Chew?
Mr. Brown: It hurts her. It shouldn't hurt her, you know, her pussy should be Bubble Yum by now, but when this cat fucks her it hurts. It hurts just like it did the first time. You see the pain is reminding a fuck machine what it once was like to be a virgin. Hence, 'Like a Virgin'.
Joe: Wong?
Joe: This man set us up.
Nice Guy Eddie: Dad, I'm sorry, but I don't know what the hell's happening.
Joe: It's all right, Eddie. I do.
Mr. White: What the fuck are you talking about?
Joe: That lump of shit's working with the L.A.P.D.
Mr. Orange: Joe, I don't have the slightest fucking idea what you're talking about.
Mr. White: Joe, I don't know what you think you know, but you're wrong.
Joe: Like hell I am.
Mr. White: Joe, trust me on this. You've made a mistake. He's a good kid. I understand. You're hot, you're super fucking pissed. We're all real emotional. But you're barking up the wrong tree. I know this man. He wouldn't do that.
Joe: You don't know jack shit! I do! The cocksucker tipped off the cops and had Mr. Brown and Mr. Blue killed.
Mr. Pink: Mr. Blue is dead?
Joe: Dead as Dillinger.
Mr. White: How do you know all this?
Mr. Orange: [after killing Mr. Blonde] Hey you, what's your name?
LAPD Officer Marvin Nash: Marvin.
Mr. Orange: Marvin what?
LAPD Officer Marvin Nash: Marvin Nash.
Mr. Orange: Listen to me, Marvin, I'm a c...
[pauses]
Mr. Orange: ...listen to me, Marvin Nash, I'm a cop.
LAPD Officer Marvin Nash: Yeah, I know.
Mr. Orange: You do?
LAPD Officer Marvin Nash: Yeah, you're name's Freddy something.
Mr. Orange: Newendyke. Freddy Newendyke.
LAPD Officer Marvin Nash: Frankie Ferchetti introduced us about five months ago.
Mr. Orange: Shit, I don't remember that at all.
LAPD Officer Marvin Nash: I do. Freddy... Freddy, how do I look?
Mr. Orange: [Freddy laughs] I don't know what to tell you, Marvin.
LAPD Officer Marvin Nash: That fuck! That sick fuck! That fucking bastard!
Mr. Orange: Marvin, I need you to hold on. There's cops waiting less than a block away.
LAPD Officer Marvin Nash: What the fuck are they waiting for? This fucking guy slashes my face, and he cuts my fucking ear off! I'm fucking deformed!
Mr. Orange: [yells] FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU! I'M FUCKIN' DYING HERE! I'M FUCKIN' DYING!
[pauses and calms down]
Mr. Orange: All right, now you heard them, we'll make the move when they get back, so don't pussy out on me now, Marvin. We're just gonna sit here and bleed until Joe Cabot sticks his fucking head through that door!
Mr. Pink: We were set up. The cops were waiting for us.
Nice Guy Eddie: What? Nobody set anybody up.
Mr. Pink: The cops were there waiting for us!
Nice Guy Eddie: Bull shit!
Mr. Pink: Hey, fuck you, man! You weren't there - we were! And I'm tellin' ya, the cops had that store staked out.
Nice Guy Eddie: Okay, Mr. Fucking Detective! You're so fucking smart. Who did it? Who set us up?
Mr. Pink: What the fuck d'ya think we've been askin' each other?
Nice Guy Eddie: And what are your answers? Was it me? You think I set you up?
Mr. Pink: I don't know, but somebody did!
Nice Guy Eddie: Nobody did! You assholes turn the jewelry store into a wild west show, and you wonder why the cops show up?
Nice Guy Eddie: C'mon, throw in a buck!
Mr. Pink: Uh-uh, I don't tip.
Nice Guy Eddie: You don't tip?
Mr. Pink: Nah, I don't believe in it.
Nice Guy Eddie: You don't believe in tipping?
Mr. Blue: You know what these chicks make? They make shit.
Mr. Pink: Don't give me that. She don't make enough money that she can quit.
Nice Guy Eddie: I don't even know a fucking Jew who'd have the balls to say that. Let me get this straight: you don't ever tip?
Mr. Pink: I don't tip because society says I have to. All right, if someone deserves a tip, if they really put forth an effort, I'll give them something a little something extra. But this tipping automatically, it's for the birds. As far as I'm concerned, they're just doing their job.
Mr. Blue: Hey, our girl was nice.
Mr. Pink: She was okay. She wasn't anything special.
Mr. Blue: What's special? Take you in the back and suck your dick?
Nice Guy Eddie: I'd go over twelve percent for that.
Mr. Blonde: Listen, I appreciate what, you guys are doin' for me, but I was wonderin' when I can come back and, you know, do some real work.
Joe: Well, that's hard to say, It's kind of a strange time now. Things are a little...
Nice Guy Eddie: They're a little fucked-up is what they are. Listen we got a big meetin' goin' down in Vegas right now.
Joe: Just let Eddie for now set you up in Long Beach, get you some cash, Get this Scagnetti fuck off your back, and then we can start talkin' okay? Huh?
Nice Guy Eddie: Listen daddy, I got an idea. Now just, hear me out. Now, I know you don't like usin' the boys on jobs like these, but Vic has been nothin' but good luck for us. The guy's a fuckin' rabbits foot for cryin' out loud. I'd like to have him in. You know he's reliable and you damn well know trust him.
Joe: [pause] How would you feel about pulling off a job with about five other guys?
Mr. Blonde: I'd feel great about it.
Marvin: I already told you I don't know anything about any fucking setup; you can torture me all you want.
Mr. Blonde: Torture you? That's a good idea. I like that.
Mr. Blonde: Are you gonna bark all day, little doggy, or are you gonna bite?
Mr. White: What was that? I'm sorry, I didn't catch it. Would you repeat it?
Mr. Blonde: Are you gonna bark all day, little doggy, or are you gonna bite?
Mr. White: You can't leave this guy with them.
Nice Guy Eddie: Why not?
Mr. White: Because he's a fucking psycho. And if you think Joe's pissed off, that ain't nothing compared to how pissed off I am at him, for putting me in the same room as that bastard!
Mr. Blonde: See what I've been putting up with, Eddie? I fucking walked in here, I told these guys about staying put. Mr. White whips out his gun, he's sticking it in my face, calling me a motherfucker, saying he's gonna blow me away and blah, blah, blah, blah, blah.
Mr. Pink: [walks in] Was that a fucking set up or what?
[sees a bloodied Mr. Orange lying on the floor]
Mr. Pink: Shit! Orange got tagged?
Mr. White: Gut shot.
Mr. Pink: Fuck! Where's, uh, Brown?
Mr. White: Dead.
Mr. Pink: How'd he die?
Mr. White: How the fuck do you think? The cops shot him.
Mr. Pink: This is bad. This is so fucking bad. Is it bad?
Mr. White: As opposed to good?
Mr. Pink: Man, this is fucked up. This is so fucked up. Somebody fucked us up big time, man.
Mr. White: You really think we were set up?
Mr. Pink: Do you even doubt it, man? I don't THINK we got set up, I KNOW we got set up! I mean, really, seriously, where did all those cops come from, huh? One minute they're not there, the next minute they're there? I didn't hear any sirens. The alarm went off, okay. Okay, when an alarm goes off, you got an average of four minutes response time. Unless a patrol car is cruising that street, at that particular moment, you got four minutes before they can realistically respond. In one minute there were seventeen blue boys out there. All loaded for bear, all knowing exactly what the fuck they were doing, and they were all just there! Remember that second wave that showed up in the cars? Those were the ones responding to the alarm, but those first motherfuckers were already there, they were waiting for us. Haven't you fucking thought about this?
Mr. Pink: [Mr. Blonde and Mr. White begin to quarrel; Mr. Pink pushes them away from each other] Hey, you two assholes knock it the fuck off and calm down! Cut the bullshit. We ain't on a fuckin' playground! I don't beleive this shit. Both of you guys got ten years on me and I'm the only one acting like a professional. You guys act like a bunch of fuckin' niggers. You wanna be niggers, huh? They're just like you two - always fightin' and always sayin' their gonna kill each other...
Mr. White: You said yourself you thought about takin' him out!
Mr. Blonde: You fuckin' said that?
Mr. Pink: Yeah, I did. But that time has passed. Right now, Mr. Blonde is the only one I completely trust. He's too fuckin' homicidal to be workin' with the cops.
Mr. White: You takin' his side?
Mr. Pink: No, man. Fuck sides! What we need here is a little solidarity! Somebody's shoving a red hot poker up our asses and I wanna find out whose name is on the handle. Now, I know I'm no piece of shit.
[referring to Mr. White]
Mr. Pink: And I'm pretty sure you're a good boy.
[referring to Mr. Blonde]
Mr. Pink: And I'm fucking positive you're on the level. So let's figure out who the bad guy is.
Joe: Give me that book.
Mr. White: Are you gonna put it away?
Joe: I'm gonna do whatever the fuck I want with it.
Nice Guy Eddie: The chick got tired of him beatin' her so one night she walks in the guys bedroom and super glues his dick to his belly. Ambulance came and had to cut the prick loose.
Mr. White: Was he all pissed off?
Nice Guy Eddie: How would you feel if every time you had to take a piss you had to do a fuckin' hand stand?
Mr. Pink: For all I know, you're the rat.
Mr. White: For all I know you're the fucking rat!
Mr. Pink: All right, now you're using your fucking head!
Joe: So who's your parole officer?
Mr. Blonde: Seymour Scagnetti.
Joe: What's he like?
Mr. Blonde: He's a fuckin' asshole.
[Joe counts the tip and finds it is a buck short]
Joe: Hey, who didn't throw in?
Mr. Orange: Mr. Pink.
Joe: Mr. Pink? Why not?
Mr. Orange: He don't tip.
Joe: He don't tip? Whaddaya mean you don't tip?
Mr. Orange: He don't believe in it.
Joe: Shut up!
Mr. Brown: I'm blind, man. I'm fucking blind.
Mr. Orange: You're not blind, you've just got blood in your eyes.
Mr. White: We're leaving. You should go with us.
Mr. Blonde: Nobody's goin' anywhere.
Mr. White: Piss on this fucking turd! We're outta here.
Mr. Pink: [entering the warehouse] Was that a fucking setup, or what?
[sees Mr. White tending to a seriously wounded Mr. Orange]
Mr. Pink: Shit. Orange got tagged?
Mr. White: Gut shot.
Mr. Pink: Fuck. Where's Brown?
Mr. White: Dead.
Mr. Pink: How did he die?
Mr. White: How the fuck do you think? The cops shot him.
Mr. Pink: This is so fucking bad.
[referring to Orange's wound]
Mr. Pink: Is it bad?
Mr. White: As opposed to good?
Mr. Pink: [Mr. Pink throws his tip on the table] All right, but normally I would never do this.
Joe: Never mind what you *normally* would do.