what's that shit?
you wanna read something. read between the lines.
lemme see that book.
yeah.
can you chill out back there? you'd make a hummingbird nervous.
shit.
how'd it go with the chick?
i don't want her on the crew, charlie.
there has to be someone else. what about bill huchins?
red o'reilly?
martin hernandez?
i don't want a civilian to screw this up.
exactly. she's emotional. you know what happens when emotion gets into it.
try 'deal a meal'.
no problemo.
it's not the same as opening a safe for the cops. your heart will be pounding in your ears. perspiration on your fingertips. it's a whole different ball game.
where's a grenade launcher when you need one?
doesn't matter what time it is. it's either bad traffic, peak traffic, or slit-your-wrists traffic.
i'm sure it's ideal for carrying a ton of gold, genius.
if we had all green lights, fourteen minutes. but in the twenty times i've done it, the average is thirty- two minutes, with a top time of fifty minutes.
how do we get all green lights?
we still need an in to get the video blueprint.
who plays cable technician? steve thinks we're all dead.
would you clam up. you'd give a woodpecker a headache.
okay. you're the napster. heads up: cable chick.
and it's such a mystery why you don't have a girlfriend.
i have my doubts, but there's no talking to charlie.
he knows better than to mix business with pleasure. only i'm allowed to do that.
to get a work shirt and a service truck.
girls girls girls.
y'got a great job.
should we hang here? check out the dancers?
no, but i take a whizz off the deck sometimes.
the guy makes jabba the hut look like a spokesman for the subway sandwiches' diet.
i'm trying not to.
he only answers to the napster now.
we'll need three to hold the gold.
i'd say you're a maserati 250 s. just 4 cylinders but can go 0 to 60 in 4.2.
never seen 'em before in my life.
souped.
no.
because you can't navigate your way out of a parking lot. here's your ride.
he's not driving either. you ever got a speeding ticket?
you drive. i drive. charlie drives.
got cha, boss.
only place with worse smog and traffic than l.a.
good news?
meaning what the fuck?
charlie. he could take a dozen different routes to the airport and we have no idea which one. we can't take out an armored truck during rush hour.
but where do we want it? we can't shoot it out with armed guards in a brink's. we'd lose. and even if we pulled it off, the cops would be all over us, chasing us all the way to union station. we're outmanned and outgunned.
everything's quiet here. over.
problemo.
he's brought in three identical armored trucks.
three brink's trucks are leaving with motorcycle escorts, plus steve in his ferrari.
yeah.