Threats Quotes

— You wanna keep playing the Hollywood squares version of «I'll blow your freaking head off»? Are you next?
— You tripping, homie.

You hit that boy again, I'm gonna do more than salute you.

Locksley! I'll cut your heart out with a spoon!
<...>
— Why a spoon, Cousin? Why not an axe?
— Because it's dull, you twit! It'll hurt more!

— Do what I say and you won't get hurt.
— Mine's bigger than yours.
— It's not the size, it's how you use it.
— What the hell?
— You got hurt because you didn't do what I said. Your bulletproof vest doesn't cover your legs. Next time I'll take out your eye.
— Who the fuck are you?
— Do right, in a few minutes you're on your way to the hospital.

— Stupid and tedious... That's what I think of all this.
— Who do you think you're talking to?
— You, Sergeant.
— I'll break you in. I had three horses killed under me.
— Alas, the best always go first.

— Hey, buddy.
— What?
— Got a light?
— No. Henry!
— In that case, how about the 20 Gs you just blew on the 7 horse?
— What have you done with my son?
— He's on his way home. Just like you.

— Is that you, John Wayne? Is this me?
— Who said that? Who the fuck said that? Who's the slimy little communist-shit, twinkle-toed cocksucker down here... who just signed his own death warrant? Nobody, huh? The fairy-fucking-godmother said it. Out-fucking-standing. I will P. T. You all until you fucking die. I'll P. T. You until your assholes are sucking buttermilk. Was it you, you scroungy little fuck?
— Sir, no, sir.
— You piece of shit. You look like a fucking worm. I'll bet it was you.
— Sir, no, sir.
— Sir, I said it, sir.
— Well, no shit. What have we got here? A fucking comedian. Private Joker. I admire your honesty. Hell, I like you. You can come over to my house and fuck my sister. You little scumbag. I've got your name. I've got your ass. You will not laugh. You will not cry. You will learn by the numbers. I will teach you. Now get up. Get on your feet. You best unfuck yourself or I will unscrew your head and shit down your neck.

— I am Gunnery Sergeant Hartman, your senior drill instructor. From now on, you will speak only when spoken to... and the first and last words out of your filthy sewers will be "sir." Do you maggots understand that?
— Sir, yes, sir.
— Bullshit. I can't hear you. Sound off like you got a pair.

When a war chief wanders... No human can sleep.

— What's this shit?
— It's my daughter.
— I don't care if it's the weepin' mama of Christ.
— There's no personal possessions on this aeroplane.
— Just as long as you know I'll be gettin' that back at some point.
— Are you tellin' me what I'm gonna be doin' here, numb-nuts?
— You heard me.