Nick: What do you think you are, God?
Michael: We gotta play with more bullets...That means we gotta play each other...You gotta listen to me. You wanta stay down here and die?...Go ahead Nickie. It's gonna be all right...Don't worry, in five minutes we're gonna be outa here...It's gonna be all right, Nickie, go ahead. Shoot. Shoot, Nickie.
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