There's a special rung in hell reserved for people who waste good scotch.

— You didn't say the goddamn rendez-vous was in a fuckin basement.
— I didn't know.
— You said it was in a tavern?
— It is a tavern.
— Yeah, in a basement. You know, fightin in a basement offers a lot of difficulties, number one being, your fighting in a basement.

— Did you hear that? That's the sound of my Luger pointed right at your testicles.
<...>
— I was saying that makes two of us. I've had a gun pointed at your balls since you sat down.
— That makes three of us.

— It would appear, there's only thing left for you to do.
— Say, auf wiedersehen to your balls!