Snatch quotes

121 total quotes (ID: 544)

'Cousin' Avi
Brick Top
Bullet Tooth Tony
Multiple Characters

(to his colleague) Yes, London. You know- Fish, Chips, Cup o' tea, bad food, worse weather, Mary ****ing Poppins, London!

Vinny: I don't want a fuss, and I don't want to put a bullet in your face, but if you don't give me exactly what I want, there will be ****ing murders.
Bullet Tooth Tony: [to Tyrone] What's your name?
Sol: Shoot him.
Bullet Tooth Tony: [mocking] Ooh.
[Vinny attempts to pistol-whip Tony; Tony catches his hand and grips it tightly as Sol draws another gun]
Sol: Let... go... of... the... gun!
[Tony releases Vinny]
Bullet Tooth Tony: So, you're obviously the big dick. And the men on either side of you are your balls. There are two types of balls. There are big, brave balls, and there are little mincey **** balls.
Vinny: These are your last words, so make them a prayer.
Bullet Tooth Tony: Now, dicks have drive and clarity of vision, but they're not clever. They smell pussy, and they want a piece of the action. And you thought you smelled some good old pussy, and have brought your two small mincey **** balls along for a good old time. But you've got your parties muddled up. There's no pussy here, just a dose that'll make you wish you were born a woman. Like a prick, you're having second thoughts. You're shrinking, and your two little balls are shrinking with you. And the fact that you've got "Replica" written down the side of your guns, and the fact that I've got "Desert Eagle point five O" written on the side of mine, should precipitate your balls into shrinking, along with your presence. Now... **** off.
[Sips his drink]

Tommy: You shouldn't drink that stuff anyway.[looking at the milk Turkish is drinking]
Turkish: Why, what's wrong with it?
Tommy: It's not in sync with evolution.
Turkish: Shut up.
Tommy: Cows have only been domesticated for the last eight thousand years. Before that, they were running around mad as lorries. The human digestive system hasn't got used to dairy products yet.
Turkish: Well **** me Tommy. What have you been reading?
Tommy: Let me do you a favour. [takes the milk off Turkish's hand and throws it out the window and it hits a car behind them followed by screeching tires and a loud crash]
Both:[Look at each other] Whoops.

Do you know what nemesis means? A righteous infliction of retribution manifested by an appropriate agent. Personified in this case by an 'orrible **** — me.

Turkish: Well, do you want to do it?
Mickey: That depends.
Turkish: On what?
Mickey: On you buying this caravan. Ah, not the rouge one, the rose.
Turkish: It's not the same caravan.
Mickey: It's not the same fight.
Turkish: It's twice the ****ing size of the last one.
Mickey: The fight is twice the size. And me ma still needs a caravan. I like to look after me ma. It's a fair deal. Take it.
Turkish: Mickey, you're lucky we aren't worm food after your last performance. Buying a tart's mobile palace is a little ****ing rich.
[Realizes his mistake as the gypsies stare threateningly at him]
Turkish: I wasn't calling your mum a tart. I just meant...
Mickey: Save your breath for cooling your porridge. Hey, look... [incoherently] Ah - deh sah-sez-fren-forcher, and dah scar-her-cushons, wit dah matsen-seck-way-Core-Ver.
[Turkish and Tommy look at each other with confusion]
Mickey: Right. And she's terribly partial to the periwinkle blue. Have I made myself clear, lads?
Turkish: Yeah, that's perfectly clear, Mickey, yeah. Just give me one minute to confer with my colleague.
[Turns to Tommy]
Turkish: Did you understand a single word of what he just said?

[In a pig farm, Brick Top is negotiating with Turkish while feeding the corpses to the pigs]
Turkish:[narrating]If you got to deal with him, just gotta make sure you don't end up owing him. 'Cause then you're in his debt. Which means, you're in his pocket. And once you're in there, you ain't ever coming out.
Brick Top: I hear he's a good fighter, so I'm gonna use him. I'll be doing you a favour, boy.
Turkish:[narrating]What he means is, I'm doing him a favour. 'Cause everybody knows nobody takes a dive in my fights, unlike his.
Brick Top: Here, Errol. I don't think he likes me. You don't like me, do you, boy?
Turkish: Don't know what you mean.
Turkish:[narrating] I do know I can't wait to get out of here. **** me, it stinks.
Brick Top: I'd like my fights to finish prompt so we can get the punters out before the authorities find out. Now play your cards right and I'll sort you out.
Turkish:[narrating]You can sort me out by showing me out. It's hard enough to make a living in a boxing world, so every now and then you gotta do something that might not agree with your principles. Basically, you have to forget you got any.
Tommy: Are they Lancashire pigs?
Brick Top: Who the ****'s talking to you, boy?
Turkish:[narrating] Oh yeah, Tommy. Brick Top loves Tommy.
Brick Top: Now don't let me down. You don't want to let me down, do you, boy?
Turkish:[pause]See you ringside.

That's Doug The Head. Everybody knows Doug The Head. If it's stones and it's stolen, he's the man to speak to. Pretends he's Jewish. Wishes he was Jewish. Even tells his family they're Jewish, but he's about as Jewish as he is a ****ing monkey. He thinks it's good for business. And in a diamond business, it is good for business.

Mickey: Good dags. D'ya like dags?
Tommy: Dags?
Mickey: Dags. Ya like dags?
Mrs. O'Neil: Yeah, dags.
Tommy: Oh, dogs. Sure, I like dags. I like caravans more.

Brick Top: You're always gonna have problems lifting a body in one piece. Apparently the best thing to do is cut up a corpse into six pieces and pile it all together.
Sol: Would someone mind telling me, who are ya?
Brick Top: And when you got your six pieces, you gotta get rid of them, because it's no good leaving it in the deep freeze for your mum to discover, now is it? Then I hear the best thing to do is feed them to pigs. You got to starve the pigs for a few days, then the sight of a chopped-up body will look like curry to a pisshead. You gotta shave the heads of your victims, and pull the teeth out for the sake of the piggies' digestion. You could do this afterwards, of course, but you don't want to go sievin' through pig shit, now do you? They will go through bone like butter. You need at least sixteen pigs to finish the job in one sitting, so be wary of any man who keeps a pig farm. They will go through a body that weighs 200 pounds in about eight minutes. That means that a single pig can consume two pounds of uncooked flesh every minute. Hence the expression, "as greedy as a pig".
[Slightly stunned pause]
Vinny: Well... thank you for that. That's a real weight off me mind. Now I mean, wouldn't you mind telling me exactly who the **** you are, apart from someone who feeds people to pigs, of course.

Bullet Tooth Tony: Alright Mullet?
[Mullet freezes in shock, then turns around] Mullet: Hey Tony! How you doin' mate, alright?
Bullet Tooth Tony: Ooh, nice tie.
Mullet: I heard you werent about much these days, Tony
Bullet Tooth Tony: What do you know? Still warm, the blood that courses through my veins.Unlike yours, Mullet.
Mullet: Do me a favor Tone..
Bullet Tooth Tony: I will do you a favor, Mullet.I'll not get out of the car and bash the living **** out of you in front of your girlfriends.
Mullet: Got to make it worth my while, Mate.Jesus Tony, you know that.
[Tony grabs Mullets tie and rolls up the window, wedging Mullets head in it] Bullet Tooth Tony: Comfortable, Mullet? It seems sadly ironic that it's that tie that got you into this pickle.Now, you just take all the time you want.
Mullet: What the **** you doing Tone?!
Bullet Tooth Tony: Driving down the street with your head stuck in my window. What do you think I'm doing, you pinarse?
Mullet: Slow down, Tone!
Bullet Tooth Tony: You been using dog shit for toothpaste, Mullet?
Mullet: Slow down Tone. Slow down Tony!
Bullet Tooth Tony: Don't think I'll slow down. I think I'll speed up. [starts to accelerate]

Listen here you ****ing fringe, if I throw a dog a bone, I don't want to know if it tastes good or not. You stop me again whilst I'm walking and I'll cut your ****ing jacobs off.

Tommy: What's coursing?
Turkish: Hare coursing. They set two lurchers - they're dogs, before you ask. On a hare. And the hare has to outrun the dogs.
Tommy: So, what if it doesn't?
Turkish: Well the big rabbit gets ****ed, doesn't it.
Tommy:[pauses and thinks]Proper ****ed?
Turkish: Yeah, Tommy. Before "Zee Germans" get there.
[Later, to Mickey]

Turkish:[narrating] Now there was a problem with pikies or gypsies...
Mickey: What're ya doin' here? Get out of the way, man. [babbling and speaking quickly]
Turkish:[narrating] can't really understand much of what's being said.
Mickey: You Tommy? Come about the caravan?
Tommy: Mr. O'neill.
Mickey: ****, man. Call me Mickey.
Turkish:[narrating]He's not Irish, he's not English...
Tommy: How are ya?
Mickey: Weather's been kind, [starts babbling].
Turkish:[narrating] He just well, ya know, he's just Pikey.
[Gorgeous George gets out of the car]
Mickey: **** me! Would you just look the size of him? How big are ya? Hey kids, how big is he?
Pikey kid: Big enough man, fo sure.
Mickey: Hey Mam, come and look at the size of this fella. Bet you can box a lil' can't ya, sir. Ahh, you look lak a boxer.
Mrs O'neill: Get outta the way, Mickey. See if these fellas'd like a drink.
Tommy: Oh, I could murder one.
Mrs O'neill: Be no more murdering don' 'round ere, I don't mind telling ya.
[Gorgeous George not coming inside with them]
Mrs O'neill: Is the big fella not coming with us?
Tommy: Nah, he's minding the car.
Mrs O'neill: What's he think we are? Thieves?
Tommy: No, nothing like that, Mrs O'neill. He just likes...looking after cars.

Gorgeous George: Get back down or you will not be coming up next time.
[watches as Mickey warms up]
Gorgeous George: Oh, bollocks to you. This is sick. I'm out of here.
Mickey: You're not going anywhere, you thick lump.
[Pulls off his shirt]
Mickey: You stay until the job's done.
[Mickey kisses his good luck charm. George throws a punch. Mickey dodges, knocks out George with a clean punch to the jaw]
Turkish: [narrating] It turned out that the sweet-talking, tattoo-sporting pikey was a gypsy bare-knuckle boxing champion. Which makes him harder than a coffin nail. Right now that's the last thing on Tommy's mind. If Gorgeous doesn't wake up in the next few minutes Tommy knows he'll be buried with him. Why would the gypsies go through the trouble explaining why a man died in their campsite? Not when they can bury the pair of them and just move camp. It's not like they got social security numbers, is it? Tommy, 'The Tit', is praying. And if he isn't... he ****ing should be.

In the quiet words of the Virgin Mary... come again?