rman shepherd starts barking. He's barking at me. I mean, it's obvious. He's barking at me. Every nerve-ending, all my senses, blood in my veins, everything I have is screaming, "Take off, man! Just bail, just get the fuck out of there!" Panic hits me like a bucket of water. First there's the shock of it... -BAM!... -right in the face. I'm standing there drenched in panic. All these sheriffs looking at me, and they know, man. They can smell it. Sure as that fucking dog can, they can smell it on me.
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Marvin: I already told you I don't know anything about any fucking setup; you can torture me all you want.
Mr. Blonde: Torture you? That's a good idea. I like that.
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Joe: All right ramblers, let's get rambling!
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Mr. White: Hardy fuckin' har.
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[Mr. White and Mr. Pink are washing up after the robbery went sour, trying to figure out what happened]
Mr. Pink: You kill anybody?
Mr. White: A few cops.
Mr. Pink: No real people?
Mr. White: Just cops.
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