Cite

Lotton: Those stairs.

Shenhua: Huh? The ones over there? What about 'em? Ain't suited for pistols.

Lotton: If I made my entrance there, do you think I would look cool?

Revy (to Shenhua): Oi. The hell did ya bring someone like that with ya?

Shenhua: Ah, pay no attention. Is little strange in head.

Revy (to Lotton): Hey, Don't ya dare go up there. Shut up and stay next to goth girl.

Chang: Let me tell you a phrase for times like this. «It's someone else's business». Such a convenient combination of words. Like a magic spell that makes the world easier to live in.

Chang: There are lot of people in this city with «ex-something» in their job description.

Revy: Like the Chunk said, this place's just like Somalia. The fuckers wavin' their guns around here don't think of ya as nothin' more'n those billboards you see at the city limits. The kind ya shoot at when yer drunk and wanna look cool for yer friends. Lowlifes. That's what they are. I'll tell ya how to take fuckers like these on. You haveta think of 'em as billboards too. Just walkin', talkin' billboards, rusty and rotten.

Revy: She's missin' more'n a few screws. An' if they gave grades for killin', she'd have an A plus.

Revy: She's a killin' machine who'd make John Rambo shit his pants.

– The target is Rosarita Cisneros. Former ally of commander Marulanda, who converted to reactionism. Don't underestimate her because she's a woman. She was once known as the Bloodhound of Florencia, and even in our homeland, she's considered a monster, a second Carlos the Jackal. Every way to kill a man that you know, she knows, and she's better than you are. Don't forget for an instant that she's not a human, she's a crnivorous beast, pretending to be one.

Jefe: The stakes are high, Abrego. If you fuck up here, the gringos will have me out on the street with only the clothes on my back. And then I'll probably end up like Pablo. You konw that, right?

Revy: Like I thought. Fucker's paranoia's reachin' critical levels. Listen up, maid. Don't step thers if y'don't wanna run races with a celluloid foot. Okay? And don't step on the place right past the wire either. There's a shotgun trap there.

Fabiola: How boorish! Is he trying to kill all of his customrs?

Revy: Y'figured that out just now? Yeah, that's it. Anybody who lives doped up on speed an' heroin ends like that.

Ronny: You barbarians are so quick to posture. If we're going to decide anything at this meeting, at least put a price on her head. You see, us civilized peoples don't like killing for free.

Bao: What is this time? Ain't nothing left to blow up anymore.

Rock: Err... What's going on here?

Bao: See, both Flag and brothel upstairs are closed thanks to that kid there, so I was taking an impromptu vacation with the ladies.

Garcia: Fabiola? This place is...

Fabiola: Ack! No, no, no, no! I didn't do it on purpose! I mean, that is... You could say... I... put an end to a potentially dangerous situation before it got out of hand...?

Garcia: From the looks of the building, I'd say you put an end to it, all right.

Ray: Politics, Major. A load of shit, if you ask me.

Chang: This is a new Pandora's box of epic proportions. With enough disasters inside to fill a sears department store.

Chang: Finding a spy whereabouts and tracking him down, all with just one photo. Looks like she really is a bloodhound.

Fabiola: His corpse was found with his lower legs hacked and stabbed until they were nearly unrecognizable.

Revy: Those're signs of torture, young master. And from the sound of it, torture bad enough to make the Gestapo piss their pants, at that.

Roberta: Sir, I recall having seen your face before. You see, I've found that being able to remember people I've previously met is crucial in my line of work.

Revy: Just what is the Lovelace plantation like? Full of badass motherfuckers who could storm the Iranian embassy by themselves?

Dutch: I can't believe it. Not only was the bar turned into an open-air cafe but the one who did it was a short version of the killer maid.

Gustavo: Bao. Bao! Where's back door?

Bao: Thanks to you, there's a whole fuckton of 'em. Pick one.

Gustavo: I don't mean that! You know what I'm talking about...

Bao: Y'know what I wanna see most right now, you shitheaded Mexican? I wanna see your sorry excuse for a face surgically modified by that girl's ridiculous gun. Got it? Good. Then scram!

Fabiola: Senor Rock! Are you still alive?

Rock: Yeah! I don't know quite how, but I am!

Fabiola: Ah, that is most fortunate. Your deaths would be a considerable setback to our estate.

Revy: Real smooth talker, ain't she?

Revy: Wow, not bad. She's like a sheriff in an old western. Well, that was neat. But people like her kinda tend to die young.

Benny: Mind if I make a prophesy? We won't have time for a drink when we arrive at the Flag.

Revy: Did ya hear her, Rock? I think I'm going nuts. She even sounds like that fucking glasses bitch.

Fabiola: Excuse me, but the head housemaid is not named «that fucking glasses bitch». Please correct yourselves.

Bao: Since I started this place with an old buddy back in '78, it's been trashed 15 times, and totally blown to smithereens six. I'd like to keep the fucking high score from going up any more, you hear me?

Revy: Tough luck. Ya got my condolences, Bao.

Bao: You're the one who did most of the trashing, ya bitch.

Revy: Don't look at me! I mean, those were complete accidents! Why doncha put a «No guns, no grenades» sign on the door if you're so concerned, huh?

Bao: Idiot. I tried it already. That was a goddamn horrible day. Robbers swarmed in like flies, looking for my unarmed customers.

Shenhua: Oh, you alive, too? Lucky man.

Lotton: ...did you see me?

Shenhua: Mmm... Some.

Lotton: ...did I look cool?

Shenhua: ...look like king stupid. From now, is good not to appear from high place. People think you stupid.