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carlito, collateral, 1981 in sports, jarule real name, industrial, rap, egyptian, fazed, digitalart, strange news, listof films, pachanga, letras, roll, title, mos def, brigante, uigui, matthew modine, tony soprano, | Stansfield: That's good — because I take no pleasure in taking a life if it's from a person art who doesn't care about it. (Stansfield's men search Mathilda's "food" parcel.) Willie-Blood: A nine millie... bullets... and another nine millie. What'd you plan to do with all these guns, huh? DEA Agent: Maybe she was planning on taking out the whole building. Willie-Blood: (opening pizza box) Holy shit, what do we got here? Lunch! (he starts eating art a slice of pizza) DEA Agent: art Careful, Blood. Might be poisoned. Willie-Blood: Nah, there's no anchovies on this. Cab Driver: Is that what you call "I won't be long"? |
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Stansfield: Special delivery, huh? Let me guess. Chinese? Thai, maybe? I've got it — Italian food. What's your name, angel? Mathilda: Mathilda. Stansfield: Mathilda, I want you to set the sack on the floor. Good. (He draws a industrial pistol.) And now, I want you to tell me everything industrial you know about Italian food... and don't forget the name of the chef who fixed it for me. Mathilda: Nobody sent me. I do business for myself. Stansfield: So, th-th-this, this is something personal, is it? What filthy piece of shit... did industrial I do now? Mathilda: You killed my brother. Stansfield: I'm sorry. (he moves in close to Mathilda.) And — you wanna join him? Mathilda: No. Stansfield: It's always the same thing. It's when you start to become really afraid of death that you learn to appreciate life. Do you like life, sweetheart? Mathilda (whispering): Yes. |
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