Buddy 'Aces' Israel: You're looking at me like, like... I just asked you the fucking square root of something.
Rip Reed: ...I bet you guys got a lot of stories, right? I don't. I grew up soft with the private schools and the little blazers, you know, and everyone "talked things out," you know? No one ever threw any blows - still to this day, never punched in the face, imagine that. I'm pretty much a pantywaist. I don't say this to be self-deprecating, I just, you know, don't have much of an opinion of myself. I'd much rather be like you guys, you know, bar fighters and big, swinging dicks, takin' care of shit. You know, sadly this is it, you know, it's disgusting - "Thanks, God! Dog-pile of piss-poor physique on top of a small cock and hereditary alcoholism, 'preciate it!" I'm babbling, I do that drunk, please forgive.
Warren: I feel like you're eyeballin' me, dawg! I don't like punk bitches eyeballin' me! You got beef? You got beef? You want some of this?
Buddy 'Aces' Israel: Will you tell me what that is?
Hugo Croop: About what?
Buddy 'Aces' Israel: Look at the coller on that coat... whats that look like, that stain?
Hugo Croop: I dunno... Cinnamon roll?
Buddy 'Aces' Israel: Cinnamon roll? the cinnamon, the roll of the cinnamon. That looks like jizz... ya Eastern European jizz, that looks like some fuckhead shot his load on a 12000 dollar calf's skin jacket. The twist? Its my 12000 dollar calf's skin jacket. So ya got the semon, ok you got the human ejaculate
Buddy 'Aces' Israel: thats been allowed to soak in for like seven hours alright. Work its way into the fabric fuckin fibers...
Hugo Croop: If you like I send out?
Buddy 'Aces' Israel: ...To what? Incinerate? Hugo there isn't a fuckin laundry detergent or dry cleaning product known to man that will get that clean. Some shit, suffice it to say, just don't wash out.
Hugo Croop: Do you want an apology?
Buddy 'Aces' Israel: Only if you really truly mean it.
Hugo Croop: Im very sorry,
Buddy 'Aces' Israel: Are you a Collasal fuckin idiot?
Hugo Croop: I am idiot.
Buddy 'Aces' Israel: Get the phone, it's probably Mecklin. Get Fatolli up here and start cleaning all right? and please for me will you do one thing?
Buddy 'Aces' Israel: [Card trick putting a card on Hugo's forehead]
Buddy 'Aces' Israel: Get out of my fucking sight.
Sir Ivy: What'd you say to Mecklen?
Buddy 'Aces' Israel: What I've always been sayin', let's make the fuckin' deal.
Sir Ivy: You see... this is one of the rare moments, where your ass gets to be completely honest... and if i'm asking you what you said to Mecklen, assume the shit is rhetorical, assume I already know.
Buddy 'Aces' Israel: What do you see right now? You see exactly, and only what I choose to show you. That is illusion Ivy, that is the lie that I tell your eyes, makin' the magic happen, in the moment, in that split second... but seeing behind this motherfucker and knowing... that it's all bullshit.
Sir Ivy: Yeah, you on some bullshit.
Buddy 'Aces' Israel: But I can shape it, I can shift it, I can make it as real as this room. That's why i'm valuable here Ivy and that is why you are not.
Sir Ivy: I ain't valuable?
Buddy 'Aces' Israel: I am sorry, I love you, I never wanted it to be like this, you know that.
Sharice Watters: [watching a bunch of prostitutes enter the hotel] The ho train has left the station.
Donald Carruthers: You've got to be careful when doing your stakeouts. I did one for... I was on one for six months. I gained, like, 20, 25 pounds. You keep eating this crap...
Richard Messner: Well, that's not my problem, though. I don't gain weight. I tried.
Donald Carruthers: That's 'cause you're 12 years old.
Donald Carruthers: Do you know what? Urine is good for your skin? My grandmother... I swear to god, my grandmother told me. She said... She didn, 'cause when I used to get a zit or something, she said...
Richard Messner: She pissed on your face?
Donald Carruthers: Get the fuck out of here. Are you fucking nuts?
Richard Messner: What?
Donald Carruthers: She's my grandmother.
Richard Messner: You just told me your grandmother said that piss is good for your skin.
Buddy 'Aces' Israel: You with me, baby?
Buddy 'Aces' Israel: No, I tell you something. You know what? Listen to me. Listen. The deal is off in five minutes unless they give us something.
Morris Mecklen: I don't know what to say to you. It is what it is.
Buddy 'Aces' Israel: Bullshit! It isn't! I am not... I don't know how to say it any fucking louder. I am not giving up my boys. All right. End of fucking song.
Morris Mecklen: And they are bricking us on that particular issue, pally. I've been cohabitating with these people for the last thirty hours. These are the premier prick cocksuckers of all time. I feel beaten by them; I feel bloodied. You're just gonna have to play ball.
Buddy 'Aces' Israel: No. I don't have to do shit, which includes cooperating with these fuckers, until I get what I want! Listen to men. If we have to give them someone, give them Hugo, all right? I can take that, because he needs that regimented prison shit that they'll give him.
Buddy 'Aces' Israel: It's bigger than that. They want everybody. Ivy, Beanie, Hugo, the works.
Buddy 'Aces' Israel: This is not a fucking swap meet, all right Morrie? I'm not giving up my boys and you fucking know that. I gave you Sparazza. I'm gonna give them Sparazza and the west-coast syndicate gift-wrapped. Get it fucking done!
Morris Mecklen: Listen to me, kid. Let's not antagonize this any more, okay? If we push this, they are gonna revoke your protective status and that nullifies any agreement we got. And that is mate. Checkmate, kiddo.
[Israel drops his cell phone in despair and rests his head on the piano keys behind him]
Richard Messner: [while staring at the comatose Buddy Israel and Primo Sparazza] Make it make sense.
Stanley Locke: They are father and son. Israel's mother was nineteen at the time. She and Sparazza had a brief affair of which Israel was the byproduct. That same year, she brought a paternity suit against him.
Richard Messner: Our surveillance of Padiche, Serna...
Stanley Locke: All bogus and bad information that set off a series of unfortunate events. Dr. Ingstrom, the Swede, is not a hired killer. He's actually the head of cardiology at Stockholm University. He's one of the best heart surgeons in the world. The actual contract went to Lazlo Soot, the man who escaped the penthouse yesterday... in disguise. He was hired by Sparazza to neutralize Israel's entourage. Dr. Ingstrom was here to perform the surgery, and as father and son, they are blood compatible.
Richard Messner: You're talking about a transplant, aren't you? You're talking about a fucking heart transplant. You're gonna kill Israel to save Sparazza
Stanley Locke: [hands Messner a folder] No.
[reffering to Sparazza's plastic surgery]
Stanley Locke: It wasn't elective. It was undertaken to save his life. It wasn't cosmetic. It was reconstructive. Look at the date of the first procedure. Same year that Sparazza supposedly murdered Freeman Heller.
Freeman Heller: [flashback] I'd like to show you exactly what I meant when I said, "Change my face." Using the latest techniques in cosmetic surgery, I will have my ears pinned back. Removing a slight piece of bone in my chin I will alter my jaw line. A procedure known as rhinoplasty will reduce the size of my nose. If you add facial hair to the equation, gentlemen, you have a face that looks nothing like mine and more importantly, nothing like a federal agent's.
Richard Messner: [present day] Oh, Christ.
Freeman Heller: [flashback] I will maintain a slight limp. My accent will be a regional Calabrese. My birthplace, Cosenza, Italy.
Richard Messner: [present day] That's him.
Freeman Heller: [flashback] And my name...
Richard Messner: [present day] That's Heller.
Freeman Heller: [flashback] ... will be Primo Sparazza. Now, gentlemen, I understand that this is a dramatic approach.
Stanley Locke: [present day] He went deep cover in 1940. He could have ripped the Mafia apart.
Freeman Heller: [flashback] But I firmly believe...
Stanley Locke: [present day] Dismantled most of the organized crime in this country.
Freeman Heller: [flashback] ... this is the only way to truly infiltrate organized crime.
Stanley Locke: His superiors were convinced that he had gone rogue, swapped allegiances, so they gave the order to terminate his cover. All this time, we were told that it was Sparazza that killed Heller, when it was us, the FBI. And we didn't kill him. He survived. But the injuries he sustained required constant surgery, forever alterine his features. So he assumed the identity of his alter ego. The figment of Primo Sparazza became flesh and blood, and Freeman Heller was no more. Now, the brass wanted Heller's op removed from official records, so they buried it completely and they wrote Heller off. All the agents from that era, they're dead and gone, so history defaulted to fable. Until now. Heller's op predated the second World War. About 60 years of amassed intel. Do you have any idea how valuable that is?
Richard Messner: Yeah. So you made another deal, didn't you?
Stanley Locke: Israel's deal with the government was tossed out. We are now trying to rehabilitate him, so we can attempt a transplant.
Richard Messner: You realize that you're doing this to save Sparazza?
Stanley Locke: No, son. I'm doing all this to save Heller.
Stanley Locke: Pasquale Acosta. Blood-money mercenary. His countrymen have dubbed him the more dubious "El Estrago" - "The Plague". American educated. Fluent in over a dozen languages. Freelanced for the CIA. Noted for his legendary torture techniques. When he was caught by the SAS in Northern Ireland, in prison he chewed off his fingertips to the bones, so he couldn't be printed or ID'd by Interpol.
Hollis Elmore: If this Israel really is the great whale of snitches, then what are we doing messing with the mob, who are correct me if I'm wrong, but I think they're gonna pour boxes of bullets into his ass?
"Pistol" Pete Deeks: [agitated] Here we go.
Hollis Elmore: What incentive is there, to track him on something small time is a fucking skip trade?
Jack Dupree: So I take it you're not going?
Hollis Elmore: No, no. I'm going to Kentucky to take Fort Knox with a fucking slingshot, and then I'm going to hell after Hitler.
"Pistol" Pete Deeks: Would you please find your fangs! You fucking coward. What is wrong with you?
[Hollis shows him the middle finger]
"Pistol" Pete Deeks: Seriously, what is wrong with you?
Margie Turlock: My boy Dale is at the Reno Correctional Facility. He's got some clarity issues. Did some home invasion, sodomy-torture type stuff; wrote a lot of bad checks.
Jack Dupree: How about the Tremor brothers? Three of them; same skank mom, different deadbeat dads. They're used for that suicide-style, kamikaze shit. Heard about that dinner club in Cleveland?
"Pistol" Pete Deeks: That got squat-fucked, shot-to-shit, slashed, and burned?
Hollis Elmore: What happened?
Jack Dupree: Well the Tremor brothers go rip-shit riot on the whole fucking place. Seven dead, twenty-eight wounded. Just to get this one fucking guy. In the course of the melee, one of them gets shot in the neck - he passes out. Another one catches blowback from a jammed piece - he's temporarily blinded. Third one gets a bullet lodged in his back - he can't walk. They're speed-freak, neo-Nazi assholes who read and recite Mein Kampf like it was Mother Goose. They're meaner than shit, they're dumber than hell, and these motherfuckers will go megaton at the drop of a hat.
[realising that Aces is turning him in to the FBI]
Sir Ivy: Sending me off like your last chip?
Buddy 'Aces' Israel: You know I wouldn't.
Sir Ivy: You outta your fucking mind.
[reaches for his gun]
Buddy 'Aces' Israel: If you...
[throws a card and cuts Ivy's eye]
Sir Ivy: Motherfucker!
Sir Ivy: [to Buddy about their situation] When do we get concerned?
Sharice Watters: Let me ask you a question. Y'all let hoochies like stay up in here? I mean, 'cause y'all must be burning sheets by the ton.
Hotel Receptionist: Well...
Sharice Watters: As a female, that shit right there don't get you? Okay, it's bitches like that they reason why niggas don't pay our species any mind! They don't respect us? Yeah, we just meat for male consumption. Pieces of ass and pussy. Something pretty in lipstick and eyeliner that can suck a fucking cock!
Georgia Sykes: Once I'm inside, I'm putting chrome to Israel's head and backing out hot. Anybody get gully, you know.
Sharice Watters: I'm gonna grip and rip. I got some handloads up here ready to put some niggas out. Trust me.
Georgia Sykes: Just remember it's more of a rescue than a rampage, all right?
Sharice Watters: Hey, come on, man. You know I had bring big mama through.
Georgia Sykes: You got the .50 up?
Sharice Watters: Sure do.
Georgia Sykes: What the fuck? What the fuck are you trying to shoot? A jumbo jet out of the sky? Blast down the moon?
Sharice Watters: Any of these niggas make one false move, these bitches taking dirt naps. I ain't trying to be up here all day. And I tell you what. That bitch-ass fed get in the way, RIP, nigga.
Bill: Uh, no. No. That area is currently under construction.
Pasquale Acosta "S.A. Gerald Diego": What, you got some sultan up there?
Bill: No, we've been looking to renovate this area of our hotel for some time.
Sir Ivy: [carrying Georgia Sykes, who had been shot] You makin' a nigga fall hard, man...
Darwin Tremor: [manipulating Dupree's mouth so Jack seems to be speaking to him] Oh hell yeah, we was just at the wrong place at the wrong time, so don't feel so bad, chief.
[Messner has learned the truth about Sparazza and is upset about losing his partner for nothing]
Richard Messner: You tell me something. Is he the Rosetta Stone? He's gonna blow the lid off the last sixty years?
Stanley Locke: Sparazza introduced Israel into the life. Gave him his first big break onstage, brought him up through the ranks. And Israel played the situation very shrewdly, slowly amassing the loyalties of Sparazza's top men, with the idea of toppling the throne.
Donald Carruthers: You know, I've seen some stupid moves, but...
Stanley Locke: Well, you spend your life pulling rabbits out of hats and sawing people in half, anything seems possible. Israel wanted to touch something real, something dangerous. But what he wound up doing was splitting up the family into dual factions. Sparazza on one side, Israel on the other. The infighting that followed drew the attention of every investigatory body operating under the canopy of the federal government. Presently, we have...
FBI Aid: Sixteen state and federally-funded agencies running concurrent criminal probes on select members of La Cosa Nostra.
Stanley Locke: With Israel being the target of virtually every one. His testimony has the potential of blowing the lid off of what's left of La Cosa Nostra in this country. That alone warrants total immunity from prosecution and a vanishing act with the Witness Protection Program.
Darwin Tremor: [manipulating Dupree's mouth so Jack seems to be speaking to him] Don't worry, I forgive you Darwin.
Lazlo Soot: [impersonating the dead butler's voice] My name is Vitolli, how can I be of assistance?
Buddy 'Aces' Israel: These flowers are wilted, I need you to call the florist.
[Carruthers is in an elevator with Pasquale Acosta, who is pretending to be Bill, a dead security manager]
Pasquale Acosta "S.A. Gerald Diego": [pretending his radio is dead] I don't believe this. Battery's completely dead.
[Carruthers tries his mobile phone]
Pasquale Acosta "S.A. Gerald Diego": Oh... forget it. Won't get a signal in here. You'll have to wait.
Donald Carruthers: [points to the emergency phone] Well, what about that line? Can't you contact your people with that?
Pasquale Acosta "S.A. Gerald Diego": No, these phones are hard-wired directly to maintenance. But, once we reach the penthouse, I can call down, I'll have the elevators taken offline, sir.
[Mildly agitated, Carruthers looks down and notices something about 'Bill']
Stanley Locke: [Carruthers' remembers Locke's briefing]
Stanley Locke: "Pasquale Acosta. Blood-money mercenary. "El Estrago" - "The Plague".
[Carruthers' notices Acosta's damaged fingertips]
Stanley Locke: [voiceover] "When he was caught by the SAS in Belfast, and in prison, he chewed off his fingertips to the bone."
Donald Carruthers: [Carruthers becomes very suspicious] Why don't you have maintenance do it?
Pasquale Acosta "S.A. Gerald Diego": Do what, sir?
Donald Carruthers: Shut the elevator down.
Pasquale Acosta "S.A. Gerald Diego": An emergency shutdown of our entire elevated lift system, sir? No, that has to be handled by my staff, sir.
Donald Carruthers: [becoming even more cautious] How long have you been working here?
Donald Carruthers: [slowly reaches for his gun] Bill?
Staff: [Acosta notices movement in the reflection of the elevator]
[Over the radio]
Staff: Oh my God! I need an ambulance for Bill! I'm in the security room.
[Carruthers pulls his gun out, while Acosta turns around and impales him with his wrist blade. A shootout ensues between Carruthers and Acosta]
Rip Reed: He drinks, you know. Self-medicates, total cliche, this guy. He's a strung-out, washed-up, has-been, jerk, snitch fuckin' drunk seven-layer loser. Right. And I'm prayin' he puts up a fight. Please please please. Rape him! If it's possible. Punch him in the seat if it's possible. Hit him in the brown. I don't know. Anyway...
Bernard "Beanie" Alfonso: Hey, yo, bitch! You forgot your hat!
[throws wig at hooker]
Bernard "Beanie" Alfonso: [to hookers as they start to get up] Y'all stuck on sundial. Ya gotta be on stopwatch.
Bernard "Beanie" Alfonso: [on the phone with pimp, as one of the hookers falls over and breaks a glass table] Whoa! Heh! I hope you provide some serious medical insurance, 'cause one of your bitches just got fucked up!
Pasquale Acosta "S.A. Gerald Diego": I'd like to see the penthouse.