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Lock Stock and Two Smoking Barrels

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

Rory Breaker: If the milk turns out to be sour, I ain't the kinda pussy to drink it.

Nick the Greek: I'll need a sample.
Tom: Ahh, no can do I'm afraid.
Nick the Greek: What's that? Some 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.

Big Chris: It's been emotional.

Tom: There's no money, there's no weed. It's all been replaced by a pile of corpses.

Rory Breaker: If you hold back anything, I'll kill ya. If you bend the truth or I think your bending the truth, I'll kill ya. If you forget anything I'll kill ya. In fact, you're gonna have to work very hard to stay alive, Nick. Now do you understand everything I've said? Because if you don't, I'll kill ya.

"Hatchet" Harry: I don't want to know who you use, as long as they're not complete muppets.

Soap: A minute ago this was the safest job in the world. Now it's turning into a bad day in Bosnia.

Winston: Charles, get the rifle out. We're being fucked.

Soap: OY! Keep your fingers out of my soup!

Barry the Baptist: If you don't want to be counting the fingers you haven't got, I suggest you get those guns. Quick!

Gary: Shotguns? What, like guns that fire shot?
Barry the Baptist: Oh, you must be the brains of the operation. Yes, guns that fire shot.

Winston: We grow copious amounts of ganja here, and you're carrying a wasted girl and a bag of fertilizer. You don't look like your average horti-fucking-culturalist.

Plank: Ah! They shot me!
Dog: Well, shoot em back!

John: Jesus, Plank, couldn't you have got smokeless cartridges? I can't see a bloody thi-- Ah! I've been shot!
Dog: Look, will everyone stop gettin' shot?

Little Chris: Fuckin' 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!

Big Chris: All right, son: roll them guns up, count the money, and put your seat belt on.

[Discussing their careers as marijuana growers]
J: 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.

Tom: It's not worth him giving us any trouble, 'cause he knows we'll be a pain in the arse, and who needs a pain in the arse?
Soap: I'd take a pain in the arse for half a million quid.
Tom: You'd take a pain in the arse for air miles.

Soap: Rory Breaker? That psychotic black dwarf with an Afro?
Tom: That would be the same man, yes.

Soap: You're not funny, Tom. You're fat, and look as though you should be, but you're not.

[haggling with Tom]
Nick the Greek: 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 fucking Century!" In fact, fuck it Nick, I think I'll keep it!
Nick the Greek: Alright alright, keep your allens on!
[Peels off notes from his wad.]
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? Finance 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, lemme feel the fibre of your fabric.

Barry the Baptist: Lock, stock, the fuckin' lot.

Bacon: Right, let's sort the buyers from the spiers; the needy from the greedy; and those who trust me from the ones who don't. Cos if you can't see value here today, you're not up here shopping, you're up here shop lifting.

Rory Breaker: What did you shoot him with, an air rifle?
Winston: Look, we grow weed. We're not mercenaries.
Rory Breaker: You don't say.

Soap: Also, I think knives are a good idea. Big, fuck-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.

Barry the Baptist: Fucking northern monkeys!
Lenny: I hate these fucking southern fairies!

"Hatchet" Harry: You must be Eddie, J.D.'s son.
Tom: 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.

Eddie: Soap, don't be such a mincer.

Rory Breaker: Is this some white cunts joke that black cunts don't get? 'Cause I'm not fucking laughing Nicholas.

Rory Breaker: Get Nick, that greasy wop, shistos, pezza thingy gomorrah Greek bastard, if he's stupid enough to still be on this planet.

Bacon: Harry didn't think that he did a very good job, so he grabbed the nearest thing to hand, which just so happened to be a 15 inch black rubber cock, and proceeded to beat poor old Smithy to death with. And that was seen as a nice way to go. Now, that, is why you pay Hatchet Harry, when you owe.

Bacon: Come on, take a bag. I took a bag home last night, and it cost me a lot more than ten quid. Look at that chain there. Hand made in Italy, had stolen in Stepney, it's as long as my arm, I wish it was as long as something else.

Bacon: Buy 'em, you'd better bloody buy 'em. These are not stolen, they just haven't been paid for. And you can't get them again - they've changed the bloody locks.

Rory Breaker: Your stupidity may be your one saving grace.
Nick the Greek: Uuugh???
Rory Breaker: Don't "uuugh" me greek boy!

Bacon: here today we can separate the needy from the greedy, The spiers from the buyers and the ones who trust me from the ones who don't.

Soap: Can we lock up and get drunk now?

Samoan Joe: He then proceeds to order an Aristotle of the most ping-pong tiddly in the Nuclear sub.

Barry the Baptist: When you dance with the devil, you wait for the song to stop.

Eddie: The entire British empire was built on cups of tea, and if you think I'm going to war without one, mate, you're mistaken.

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.

Tom: Listen to this one then; you open a company called the Arse Tickler's Faggot Fan Club. You take an advert in the back page of some gay mag, advertising the latest in arse-intruding dildos, sell it a bit with, er . . . I dunno, "does what no other dildo can do until now", latest and greatest in sexual technology. Guaranteed results or money back, all that bollocks. These dills cost twenty-five each; a snip for all the pleasure they are going to give the recipients. They send a cheque to the company name, nothing offensive, er, Bobbie's Bits or something, for twenty-five. You put these in the bank for two weeks and let them clear. Now this is the clever bit. Then you send back the cheques for twenty-five pounds from the real company name, Arse Tickler's Faggot Fan Club, saying sorry, we couldn't get the supply from America, they have sold out. Now you see how many of the people cash those cheques; not a single soul, because who wants his bank manager to know he tickles arses when he is not paying in cheques!

Rory Breaker: Is that so, mister botanical?

Big Chris: I've got some bad news for you, John.
John: What the fuck!?
[Chris closes tanning parlor 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!




	Home Jokes Film Quotes Boss Alert News Forum Links		Back to - Film Quotes - L Lock Stock and Two Smoking Barrels Eddie: They're armed. Soap: Armed, armed with what? Eddie: Err, bad breath, colorful language, feather duster... what do you think they're gonna be armed with? Guns, you tit! Rory Breaker: If the milk turns out to be sour, I ain't the kinda pussy to drink it. Nick the Greek: I'll need a sample. Tom: Ahh, no can do I'm afraid. Nick the Greek: What's that? Some 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. Big Chris: It's been emotional. Tom: There's no money, there's no weed. It's all been replaced by a pile of corpses. Rory Breaker: If you hold back anything, I'll kill ya. If you bend the truth or I think your bending the truth, I'll kill ya. If you forget anything I'll kill ya. In fact, you're gonna have to work very hard to stay alive, Nick. Now do you understand everything I've said? Because if you don't, I'll kill ya. "Hatchet" Harry: I don't want to know who you use, as long as they're not complete muppets. Soap: A minute ago this was the safest job in the world. Now it's turning into a bad day in Bosnia. Winston: Charles, get the rifle out. We're being fucked. Soap: OY! Keep your fingers out of my soup! Barry the Baptist: If you don't want to be counting the fingers you haven't got, I suggest you get those guns. Quick! Gary: Shotguns? What, like guns that fire shot? Barry the Baptist: Oh, you must be the brains of the operation. Yes, guns that fire shot. Winston: We grow copious amounts of ganja here, and you're carrying a wasted girl and a bag of fertilizer. You don't look like your average horti-fucking-culturalist. Plank: Ah! They shot me! Dog: Well, shoot em back! John: Jesus, Plank, couldn't you have got smokeless cartridges? I can't see a bloody thi-- Ah! I've been shot! Dog: Look, will everyone stop gettin' shot? Little Chris: Fuckin' 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! Big Chris: All right, son: roll them guns up, count the money, and put your seat belt on. [Discussing their careers as marijuana growers] J: 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. Tom: It's not worth him giving us any trouble, 'cause he knows we'll be a pain in the arse, and who needs a pain in the arse? Soap: I'd take a pain in the arse for half a million quid. Tom: You'd take a pain in the arse for air miles. Soap: Rory Breaker? That psychotic black dwarf with an Afro? Tom: That would be the same man, yes. Soap: You're not funny, Tom. You're fat, and look as though you should be, but you're not. [haggling with Tom] Nick the Greek: 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 fucking Century!" In fact, fuck it Nick, I think I'll keep it! Nick the Greek: Alright alright, keep your allens on! [Peels off notes from his wad.] 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? Finance 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, lemme feel the fibre of your fabric. Barry the Baptist: Lock, stock, the fuckin' lot. Bacon: Right, let's sort the buyers from the spiers; the needy from the greedy; and those who trust me from the ones who don't. Cos if you can't see value here today, you're not up here shopping, you're up here shop lifting. Rory Breaker: What did you shoot him with, an air rifle? Winston: Look, we grow weed. We're not mercenaries. Rory Breaker: You don't say. Soap: Also, I think knives are a good idea. Big, fuck-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. Barry the Baptist: Fucking northern monkeys! Lenny: I hate these fucking southern fairies! "Hatchet" Harry: You must be Eddie, J.D.'s son. Tom: 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. Eddie: Soap, don't be such a mincer. Rory Breaker: Is this some white cunts joke that black cunts don't get? 'Cause I'm not fucking laughing Nicholas. Rory Breaker: Get Nick, that greasy wop, shistos, pezza thingy gomorrah Greek bastard, if he's stupid enough to still be on this planet. Bacon: Harry didn't think that he did a very good job, so he grabbed the nearest thing to hand, which just so happened to be a 15 inch black rubber cock, and proceeded to beat poor old Smithy to death with. And that was seen as a nice way to go. Now, that, is why you pay Hatchet Harry, when you owe. Bacon: Come on, take a bag. I took a bag home last night, and it cost me a lot more than ten quid. Look at that chain there. Hand made in Italy, had stolen in Stepney, it's as long as my arm, I wish it was as long as something else. Bacon: Buy 'em, you'd better bloody buy 'em. These are not stolen, they just haven't been paid for. And you can't get them again - they've changed the bloody locks. Rory Breaker: Your stupidity may be your one saving grace. Nick the Greek: Uuugh??? Rory Breaker: Don't "uuugh" me greek boy! Bacon: here today we can separate the needy from the greedy, The spiers from the buyers and the ones who trust me from the ones who don't. Soap: Can we lock up and get drunk now? Samoan Joe: He then proceeds to order an Aristotle of the most ping-pong tiddly in the Nuclear sub. Barry the Baptist: When you dance with the devil, you wait for the song to stop. Eddie: The entire British empire was built on cups of tea, and if you think I'm going to war without one, mate, you're mistaken. 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. Tom: Listen to this one then; you open a company called the Arse Tickler's Faggot Fan Club. You take an advert in the back page of some gay mag, advertising the latest in arse-intruding dildos, sell it a bit with, er . . . I dunno, "does what no other dildo can do until now", latest and greatest in sexual technology. Guaranteed results or money back, all that bollocks. These dills cost twenty-five each; a snip for all the pleasure they are going to give the recipients. They send a cheque to the company name, nothing offensive, er, Bobbie's Bits or something, for twenty-five. You put these in the bank for two weeks and let them clear. Now this is the clever bit. Then you send back the cheques for twenty-five pounds from the real company name, Arse Tickler's Faggot Fan Club, saying sorry, we couldn't get the supply from America, they have sold out. Now you see how many of the people cash those cheques; not a single soul, because who wants his bank manager to know he tickles arses when he is not paying in cheques! Rory Breaker: Is that so, mister botanical? Big Chris: I've got some bad news for you, John. John: What the fuck!? [Chris closes tanning parlor 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!