Loaded Weapon 1

— You got anything smaller?
— Keep it.
— Anything larger?
— Yeah. Claire and I rode together for seven years.

— She'd uncovered drug runners. That's what got her killed.
— You don't think it was bullets?

I'm getting too old for this bike-confiscating shit.

— So, how many men have you slept with?
— Five. Maybe six.
— Not a lot for this day and age.
— It's been a slow week.

— In a little while, Miss York... you will be begging for mercy.
— No, no. I'll beg now.

Here's to getting through another lousy day.

— Colt! Where are you going?
— Nowhere. I'm just taking one of those unmotivated "butt in the moonbeam" walks.