nick, i don't have anything to do with weed, normally, but if it is what he says it is, i'll give him three and a half thousand a key, that's if it is what he says it is. i don't want to see it after a sample, i don't want to touch it after a sample. i'll leave you in the capable hands of nathan here. he will work out the details, but let me get this straight. if the milk turns out to be sour, i ain't the kind of pussy who will drink it. know what i mean?
ok, i'll take it off you; half price.
it will cost you more than your life's worth if you jest with me.
what do you want, a fucking medal? i'll shoot you in the fucking throat if i don't get the gear back.
this is more like it. so where's he?
well, what did you shoot him with, an air gun?
you don't say.
mr breaker! today my name is mr breaker. you think_this is a coincidence? not many, benny! this white shite steals my goods and then thinks it is a good idea to sell it back to me. they got less brains than you, lenny . . . get nick cum-bubble round here now if he is stupid enough to still be on this planet.
your one saving grace might be your stupidity.
don't fucking er me, greek boy! how is it that your so-fucking-stupid, soon-to-be-dead friends thought they might be able to steal my gear? and then sell it back to me? is this a declaration of war? is this some sort of white cunts' joke that black cunts don't get? 'cos i am not fucking laughing, nik-ol-as.
there are four interests i have, nick. football, music, money, and the annihilation of anybody who interferes with that shortlist . . . i know you couldn't have known my position because you're not so fucking stupid that if you did know, you would turn up here scratching your arse, with that `what's going on here' look slapped on your chevy chase. but what you do know is where these people live.