- Al: [Jack has accidentally "shot" The Boss's aunt and a bus driver and the three of them are on the run] What the fuck did you do, Jack? What the *fuck* did you do?
- Jack: I did nothing bad, Al. I didn't mean it!
- Al: We're dead meat.
- [turns to Jack]
- Al: And it's your fault, you damn pill-popper!
- Jack: I just went like this!
- [stretches his arms out in a T shape like a martyr - a bullet hits the car radio]
- John: Hold the wheel, Al!
- [turns to Jack]
- John: Give me the gun, Jack!
- John: [Jack gives him the gun] This gun is *cursed*, now it won't kill innocent people any more!
- [throws it out the window, where it shoots the final bullet into a pedestrian's back. The pedestrian falls to the floor, dead, dropping his hat]
- John: [seeing Al acting like an exorcist] What the *fuck* is going on, Jack?
- Jack: When Al woke up, I told him he was an exorcist!
- Al: I am not afraid of you, Satan! Go back to - the - daaaaaarknesssss!
- Al: [seeing John - thinking that he's Satan] I have finally found you. Leave this deformed body. Enter into me. Enter into me!
- Jack: Just play along with him.
- Al: Leave this grotesque body! And enter into *me*!
- [shouts]
- Al: Enter into me, now!
- [John slaps Al - Al grunts and falls to the floor]
- The Boss: What was on your agenda today? I can't remember.
- John: We had to kill "Frankie Rubber Butt".
- The Boss: Ah.
- [opens a locker]
- The Boss: *This* Frankie Rubber Butt? The one who steals the betting money? Oh, shut up!
- [slams the locker]
- The Boss: The arsehole who sold seven of our men to the FBI?
- [holds up a photo of Frank Contropelo]
- The Boss: Or was it this one?
- Jack: That's him, boss.
- The Boss: Frankie Backcomber. The barber on the 15th Street. You had to kill a spy! You killed a barber instead. I don't know what to do with you, guys. Two weeks ago you collected the protection money from the wrong shops! And today you killed a barber!
- Jack: There's also the bourbon incident.
- The Boss: What bourbon?
- Jack: It was a bourbon we were supposed to deliver, but we downed it all at Billy Rotten Gum's party.
- The Boss: What am I supposed to do? Come on - tell me!
- Jack: Well...
- The Boss: Jack! It's a rhetorical question, you're not meant to answer it!