Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels

Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels quotes

69 total quotes (ID: 353)

Bacon
Barry the Baptist
Eddie
Multiple Characters
Rory Breaker
Soap
Tom


Big Chris: I've got some bad news for you, John.
John: What the ****?
[Chris slamms top of tanning bed on John]
Big Chris: Mind your language in front of the boy!
John: Jesus Christ!
[Chris does it again]
Big Chris: That includes blasphemy as well!


Dean: He's got the guns. Go ahead. You get them.
Gary: Why me?
Dean: You're supposed to be the hard case.
Gary: [shrieks] You get the guns. I drive the car!

Dog: [indicates massive gun] What the **** is that?
Mickey: It's me Bren gun.
Dog: Couldn't you have thought of something more practical?

Don: I'll fold.
Phil: Fold? Is that the only word you learnt at school?
Don: No, I also learned the word ****!

Eddie: Oh, and if Tom or anyone else for that matter feels like givin' them a bit of a kickin', I'm sure it won't do any harm.
Soap: Yeah, little bit of pain never hurt anybody. If you know what I mean. Also, I think knives are a good idea. Big, ****-off shiny ones. Ones that look like they could skin a crocodile. Knives are good, because they don't make any noise, and the less noise they make, the more likely we are to use them. Shit 'em right up. Makes it look like we're serious. Guns for show, knives for a pro.
Tom: Soap, is there something we should know about you?
Bacon: I'm not sure what's more worrying. The job or your past.

Eddie: They're armed.
Soap: What do you mean armed? Armed with what?
Eddie: Err, bad breath, colourful language, feather duster... what do you think they're gonna be armed with? Guns, you tit!

Eddie: Where the hell are we gonna hide?
Bacon: Don't complicate things, just hide!

Gary: Shotguns? What, like guns that fire shots?
Barry the Baptist: Oh, you must be the brains then. Yes, that's right, guns that fire shots.

Gary: So who's the gov'? Who we doing this for?
Barry the Baptist: You're doing it for me, that's all you need to know. You know because you need to know.
Gary: I see. One of them "on a need to know basis" things is it? Like one of them James Bond films.
Barry the Baptist: Careful. Remember who's giving you this job.

Hatchet Harry: You must be Eddie, J.D.'s son.
Eddie: Yeah. You must be Harry. Sorry, didn't know your father.
Hatchet Harry: Never mind son, you just might meet him if you carry on like that.

J: [Discussing their careers as marijuana growers] I've a strong suspicion we should have been rocket scientists, or Nobel Peace Prize winners or something.
Charles: Peace Prize? Ooh. Be lucky to find your penis for a piss, the amount you keep smoking.

Little Chris: ****in' hell John, do you always walk around with this in your pocket?
Big Chris: Hey! You use language like that again son, you'll wish you hadn't!

Nick the Greek: [haggling with Tom] What else does it come with?
Tom: It comes with a gold-plated Rolls Royce, as long as you pay for it.
...
Nick the Greek: Dunno. Seems expensive.
Tom: Seems? Well, this seems to be a complete waste of my time. That, my friend, is 900 nicker in any store you're lucky enough to find one in. And you're haggling over 200 pound? What school of finance did you come from Nick? "It's a deal, it's a steal, it's the Sale of the ****ing Century!" In fact, **** it Nick, I think I'll keep it!
Nick the Greek: Alright alright, keep your Alans on!
[pulls a massive wad of money out of his pocket]
Nick the Greek: Here's a ton.
Tom, Eddie: Jesus Christ!
Eddie: You could choke a dozen donkeys on that! And you're haggling over one hundred pound? What're you doing when you're not buying stereos Nick? Financing revolutions?
Nick the Greek: 100 pound is still 100 pound.
Tom: Not when the price is 200 pound it ain't! And certainly not when you've got Liberia's deficit in your skyrocket. Tighter than a duck's butt you are. Now come on, lemme feel the fiber of your fabric.

Nick the Greek: Weed?
Tom: Nah, it's not normal weed. Some ****ed-up skunk, class A, can't-think-let-a-lone-move shit.
Nick the Greek: Doesn't sound good to me.
Tom: Well, neither me, but it depends what flicks your switch, and the light is on and burning brightly for the masses. ... Anyway, do you know anyone?
Nick the Greek: I know a man, yes.... Rory Breaker.
Tom: Not that mad-man with an Afro. I don't want anything to do with him.
Nick the Greek: You won't have to, just get me a sample.
Tom: Ahh, no can do.
Nick the Greek: What's that? A place near Katmandu? Meet me halfway, mate.
Tom: Look, it's all completely chicken soup.
Nick the Greek: It's what?
Tom: It's kosher. As Christmas.
Nick the Greek: The Jews don't celebrate Christmas, Tom.
Tom: Well, never mind that. We're gonna need some artillery too. Couple of sawn-off shot-guns
Nick the Greek: This is a bit heavy. This is London, not the Lebanon, who do you think I am?
Tom: Think you're Nick the Greek.

Paul: Come take a look at this.
Traffic Warden: Take a look at what, exactly?
Paul: Well, the van's half-full. So all I have to do is fill it up, put you in it, [knocks him out] and I'm off.