I'm angry, yeah. I'm very angry, Ralph. You know, you can ball my wife if she wants you to. You can lounge around here on her sofa. In her ex-husband's... dead-tech, post-modernistic, bullshit house, if you want to... but you do not get to watch my fucking television set!

I say what I mean, and I do what I say.

— Hey. Miss Lillian.
— Let's go, baby. I met the manager. Is that the boss?
— I did time for what that motherfucker does every day.
— Baby, can you just handle it till we find you something new? Can you do that?
— Ain't a hard time been invented that I cannot handle.

— Oh, man, I just... Why did I get mixed up with that bitch?
— Because she got a great ass! And you got your head all the way up it.

— You know what they were looking at?
— What?
— Us. The L. A. P. D. The police department. We just got made.

— What am I doing? I'm talking to an empty telephone...
— I don't understand.
— ...because there is a dead man on the other end of this fucking line.