Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels - The Purpose of Security Measures
Winston:
Charles, why have we got that cage?
Charles:
Uh, security.
Winston:
That's right, that's right – security. So what's the point in having it if we're not going to fucking use it?
Charles:
Well, I would've used it, but this is Willie, and Willie lives here.
Winston:
Yes, Charles, but you didn't know it was Willie until you opened the door, did you?
Willie:
Chill, Winston, it's me. Charlie knows it's me, what's the problem?
Winston:
The problem is, Willie, that Charles and yourself are not the quickest of cats at the best of times. So just do as I say and keep the fucking cage locked! … What is that?
Willie:
That's Gloria.
Winston:
Yes, I know that's Gloria. What's that?
Willie:
Uh, fertilizer.
Winston:
You went out six hours ago to buy a money counter, and you come back with a semi-conscious Gloria and a bag of fertilizer? Alarm bells are ringing, Willie!
Willie:
We need fertilizer, Winston.
Winston:
Mm-hm, we also need a money counter. This money's got to be out by Thursday, I'm buggered if I'm gonna count it. Oh, and, uhm, if you do have to buy sodding fertilizer, could you just be a little more subtle?
Willie:
What do you mean?
Winston:
We grow copious amounts of ganja, yeah?
Willie:
Yeah.
Winston:
And you're carrying a wasted girl and a bag of fertilizer. You don't look like your average horti-fucking-culturist! That's what I mean, Willie.
Quotes sourced from Wikiquote (© Wikiquote contributors), licensed under CC BY-SA 4.0. Modified for formatting/length.
Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels - Deception and Chaos in a Bar Encounter
Barfly Jack:
Rory? Yeah, I know Rory. He's not to be underestimated. He's a funny-looking fucker, I know, but you've got to look past the hair and the cute, cuddly thing – it's all a deceptive facade. A few nights ago Rory's Roger iron's rusted, so he's gone down the battlecruiser to watch the end of the football game. No one's watching the custard, so he switches the channel over. A fat geezer's north opens, and he wanders up and turns the Liza over. "Now fuck off and watch it somewhere else!" Rory knows claret is imminent, but he doesn't want to miss the end of the game. So, calm as a coma, he picks up a fire extinguisher, walks straight past the jam rolls who are ready for action, and plonks it outside the entrance. He then orders an Aristotle of the most ping-pong tiddly in the nuclear sub and switches back to his footer. "That's fucking it," says the geezer. "That's fucking what?" says Rory. And he gobs out a mouthful of booze covering fatty. He flicks a flaming match into his bird's nest and the geezer's lit up like a leaking gas pipe. Rory, unfazed, turns back to his game. His team's won, too: four–nil.
Big Chris:
It's been emotional.
Big Chris:
All right, son. Roll them guns up, count the money, and put your seat belt on!
Dog:
Golf – the best way to spoil a good walk. Winston Churchill said that. I say it's a dog-eat-dog world. And I got bigger teeth than you two.
Hatchet Harry:
I don't want to know who you use, as long as they're not complete muppets.
J.D.:
You're lucky you're still breathing, let alone able to walk. I suggest you take full advantage of that fact.
Winston:
Charles, get the rifle out. We're being fucked!
Quotes sourced from Wikiquote (© Wikiquote contributors), licensed under CC BY-SA 4.0. Modified for formatting/length.