The Gentlemen Best Quotes – ‘There’s only one rule in this jungle!’

Starring: Matthew McConaughey, Charlie Hunnam, Henry Golding, Michelle Dockery, Colin Farrell, Hugh Grant, Jeremy Strong, Eddie Marsan, Jason Wong, Brittany Ashworth, Eliot Sumner, Lyne Renée, Chris Evangelou

OUR RATING: ★★★½

Story:

Crime comedy directed and co-written by Guy Ritchie. The story follows American expat Mickey Pearson (Matthew McConaughey), who’s built a highly profitable marijuana empire in London. However, when word gets out that he’s looking to cash out of the business forever, it triggers plots, schemes, bribery and blackmail in an attempt to steal his domain out from under him.

Our Favorite Quotes:

Best Quotes

[as Mickey walks into the bar]
Mickey Pearson: Bobby.
Barman: Boss?
Mickey Pearson: I’ll have a pint and a pickled egg.
Barman: Coming straight up.

Mickey Pearson: [voice over] If you wish to be the king of the jungle, it’s not enough to act like a king. You must be the king. There can be no doubt. Because doubt causes chaos and one’s own demise.
[we then see as Mickey calls Rosalind, another man walks behind him, and as Mickey overhears someone harassing Rosalind, a gunshot rings out and blood sprays]

[as Fletcher shows up at Ray’s house]
Ray: I should stab you with that f**king rolling pin!
Fletcher: Oh, don’t be c**ty. I was just hoping we could have a cozy little drink together. So, I’ve got a meeting on Saturday at your favorite newspaper. As the best private investigator in this smoky little town, good evening, ladies and gentlemen, they are ready to put a hundred and fifty grand in my pocket to give them some filth. Good for me, that, but in this case, it’s bad for you.

[after he’s demanded 20 million pounds in blackmail money]
Fletcher: I’m going to tell you a story to demonstrate why my quote is my quote. Will you play a game with me, Ray?
Ray: I don’t want to play a game.
Fletcher: Please?
Ray: No.
Fletcher: I said play a f**king game with me, Ray.

[he begins to tell Ray Mickey’s story]
Fletcher: Enter our protagonist. He’s good looking. He’s gorgeous. He’s golden age. He’s a proper handsome c**t. His name is Mickey Pearson. Unique background has our Mickey. American born, Rhodes scholar. So he’s born clever, but poor. Now that’s quite a leap from a trailer park in Americana to the thousand year-old university in old Angleterre, where he studies the dark art of horticulture. But he never finished his education, never went home, because he found his vocation. A naughty vocation. He’s a bad boy. He starts dealing the dirty wonder weed to his rich, British, upper-class uni pals, and realizes he’s rather good at it.

[as Fletcher continues to tell Mickey’s story to Ray]
Fletcher: But now the plot begins to thicken. He has reached a crossroads in his life. The middle class and the middle age, they’ve got to him. They’ve corrupted his appetite for the horrors. He’s gone soft. He wanted to cash in his chips, and get out of the game, and he seems to have found the perfect customer.

[at the gala dinner]
Mickey Pearson: Making a splash with the gentry.
Matthew: Oh, I like to make a splash whenever possible.
Mickey Pearson: Well, you also seem to understand the significance of a proper attire.
Matthew: Indeed I do. I believe a sense of ownership is vital in every aspect of life, perhaps never more so than when it comes to wardrobe. For every look there is a season, and for every season a strategy.
Fletcher: [voice over] Now starts the alpha dance. They’re not really talking about clothes, Raymond. Oh, f**king no. They’re like a pair of old doggies sniffing round one another’s intellectual a**holes. It’s a good old-fashioned C**k-off, Raymond.

[to Mickey; referring to Matthew]
Rosalind Pearson: He’s a fox, and foxes have a predictable nature. Trust this Jew about that Jew. If you let him in the henhouse, you can expect blood and feathers everywhere.

Matthew: How does anyone grow fifty tons of super skunk without letting anyone else know how they do it?
Mickey Pearson: I’m flattered to hear that from you, Matthew. I imagine that big brain of yours is sweating a stream of tears just trying to figure it out.
Matthew: Brilliance should be acknowledged.

[referring to his boss Big Dave and Mickey]
Fletcher: He wants to ruin him, but I am here to do you a favor. And it’s not like you’re not getting something for your money. You could even turn that script into a feature film, Raymond. We could make it together. We could be partners. I have learned off you lot. You got to look after number one, and now it’s my turn. The sun is not going up for me, Ray. It’s going down.

Mickey Pearson: I’ve gone to great lengths to make my operation as invisible as possible, Matthew. If you were standing on my bush, you wouldn’t know it. As a matter of fact, you are standing on my bush.

[referring to his weed]
Mickey Pearson: It’s the new gold rush. This is the thin end of a very fat wedge, sir.
Matthew: If it’s such a fat wedge, why don’t you keep it?
Mickey Pearson: You see, I’ve developed a reputation as a man who came up the hard way. You could say that there’s blood on these pretty white hands. But in the new business, once legal and under the jurisdiction of the respectable umbrella of ministerial legitimacy, an enterprise like this will need a face with a clean past, which sadly I do not possess. Retirement doesn’t sound so bad. Long walks in the countryside, pruning roses with my better half, raising some cubs. I’ve earned it.

Fletcher: Now that we’ve established the dilemma of our protagonist, let us turn to our antagonist. Many miles away, across the open plains, another beautiful feral beast lopes his way to a watering hole.
Ray: Who are you talking about now?
Fletcher: I talk, Raymondo, of Dry Eye. Ooh, Dry Eye. What is he? Chinese? Japanese? Pekingese? Get on your f**king knees? Dirty dragon filth.

[referring to Dry Eye]
Fletcher: He explodes on the scene like a millennial f**king firecracker. Bang, bang, bang, bang!
Ray: I’m going to have to stop you right there, Fletcher. That doesn’t sound like the Dry Eye I know.
Fletcher: Just making sure you’re paying attention, Raymond. So let’s cut instead to a somewhat anticlimactic, but suave and debonair Dry Eye, like a Chinese James Bond.

Dry Eye: A gentleman’s quote is a gentleman’s word.

[to Ray; referring to Rosalind]
Fletcher: I think the time has come for me to introduce you to our queen. A Cockney Cleopatra to Mickey’s cowboy Caesar. The only weak link, in his otherwise impregnable armor, is his devotion, his passion, some would say his obsession, with his beauteous lady wife.

Mickey Pearson: I like middle age. I like gentrification, private schools, fine wines, and a spoonful of caviar to help my medicine go down. But most importantly, I’m looking forward to spending more time with you.
Rosalind Pearson: Of course you are.

Rosalind Pearson: Look, I don’t want you knocking around here feeling all unemployed and lost with yourself.
Mickey Pearson: Well, f**k me. Most wives would beg their other halves to get out of this game, but not you.
Rosalind Pearson: That’s because I know you, darling.

Rosalind Pearson: Look, you’ll have to do this elegantly, love. If word spreads that you’re getting out, that could read as weakness. And if you smell smoke, it’s because there’s a fire, and that could get expensive. So you’re going to have to stamp that out without any gentrification. But not you, love. Don’t you do anything messy. That’s why you’ve got people, remember?
[as she grabs his crotch gently]
Mickey Pearson: I f**king love you, babe.
Rosalind Pearson: Of course you do.
[referring to them having sex]
Mickey Pearson: Any chance?
Rosalind Pearson: No, you can wait. I’ve got a red-hot Russki with her finger on the trigger. I got to deal with it.

Fletcher: I find you very impatient, Raymond. I am a storyteller. As they say in the film game, I’m laying pipe.
Ray: Well, you’d better put something through it soon.

[after Dry Eye gets a meeting with Mickey to offer to buy out his business]
Dry Eye: I understand you’re getting out.
Mickey Pearson: Getting out. Getting out of what? Bed? My head? The closet? Don’t flirt with me, Dry Eye. I’m a busy man.
Dry Eye: I hear you’re getting out of the game. And I would like you to consider an offer.
Mickey Pearson: Look, I’m going to stop you right there, so you don’t waste any more of your precious breath, young man. This is not a discussion for the two of us. Unlike the salt and pepper, it’s not on the table.

[after Dry Eye shows him the amount he’s willing to offer to buy his business]
Mickey Pearson: I am not for sale. And even if I was, you’re several zeros short. Now, you may be able to buy your man’s sausage for that, but to me it just looks rude at breakfast.
Dry Eye: You’re out of touch. You’re forgetting the laws of the jungle, looking down on me. Now, when the silverback’s got more silver than back, he best move on before he gets moved on. It’s not dignified. It’s beneath you, Michael. Trying to do you a favor. This is a big f**king number.
[pause]
Mickey Pearson: And this? Well, this is a big f**king gun.
[from under the table Mickey shoots]

[after he’s shot Dry Eye]
Mickey Pearson: Eyes not so dry now, are they? Hurts, does it? You looking for your balls, or a hole in the wall?
Dry Eye: F**k!
[as Dry Eye is crawling on the ground to get away]
Mickey Pearson: Where the f**k do you think you’re going? Because you’re not going out the way you came in, you deluded duck-eating c**t! Talking to me about the laws of the jungle. What was it? Something about being beneath me? Silver on back? There’s only one rule in this f**king jungle! When the lion’s hungry, he eats!
[he shoots and kills Dry Eye]

[after we’ve seen Fletcher’s version of how Mickey kills Dry Eye]
Ray: You’re wrong, Fletcher. That’s not how Michael works.
Fletcher: Yeah, I know. I know. I was just having a bit of fun. Every movie needs a bit of action, doesn’t it? And it’s not like Michael doesn’t have a reputation.
Ray: Had a reputation. He’s been gentrified.

[we see how really the meeting with Mickey and Dry Eye pans out after he refuses to sell]
Mickey Pearson: I know how you lot love fables, so let me share a little fable with you. There once was a young and foolish dragon who came to ask a wise and cunning lion about acquiring his territory. Now, the lion, he wasn’t interested, so he told the little dragon to f**k off. But the dragon couldn’t understand what “f**k off” meant, so he persisted, and continued to ask the lion about acquiring his territory. So the lion took the little dragon for a walk and put five bullets in his little dragon head. End of story. Now, allegedly there’s a message in there. I don’t know what it is, but you’re a clever boy, Dry Eye. Maybe you can explain it to me.
Ray: I think your time’s up, chaps.
Dry Eye: Michael, you should recons…
[Mickey tuts to stop him]
Mickey Pearson: Just marinade on it. In the meantime, f**k off.

[to some rowdy young guys in the cafe]
Coach: Don’t stand near me, son. You got your mouthwash muddled up with cat pi**. Take two steps back and wait your turn.

[to some rowdy young guys in the cafe]
Coach: Now make it quick. Make it funny.

[after Mickey’s weed lab is raided by amateur MMA fighters calling themselves The Toddlers]
Mickey Pearson: No sooner do I entertain Matthew’s offer to buy me out, and reject Dry Eye’s offer, does one of my farms get raided.
Rosalind Pearson: First time ever.
Mickey Pearson: Doesn’t feel like a coincidence, does it?
Rosalind Pearson: It isn’t. There’s f**kery afoot.
Mickey Pearson: How did they find it?
Ray: I don’t know. I’m making inquiries.

[after Matthew gives Mickey a 2-shot derringer]
Matthew: It’s a paperweight, to keep down all the paper I’m about to give you.
Mickey Pearson: Well, it looks like a gun.
Jackie: And it’s a paperweight.
Mickey Pearson: Seeing how in this country, unlike in our homeland, they’re illegal.
Jackie: So is riding your bicycle at night without lights. Laws are there as a guideline.
Matthew: In France, it’s illegal to call a pig Napoleon, but just try and stop me.
Mickey Pearson: I quite like it. You’re very kind. Thank you.
Matthew: Hands across the sea.

[after Mickey asks Ray to get Pressfield’s addict daughter, Laura, from a council estate]
Ray: It’s just that I don’t like smackies. It’s the filth, and the grime, and the grub in the tub.
Mickey Pearson: I’m not asking your OCD to spend the weekend with them, Ray. Think of it as philanthropy. Come on, you’re driving.
Ray: No good deed goes unpunished.

Ray: Anyway, back to you, Laura, queen in this here kingdom of sh*t. A single rose in a cauldron of thorns. Are you ready to turn a corner? Open the curtains and let the light in? Do your mum and dad a favor and try the impossible, make yourself happy.
Laura Pressfield: Alright.
Ray: F**king hell. That was easy.

[referring to Matthew]
Rosalind Pearson: Ah. He’s bought you a gun. That’s a nice little gift. Five years in prison all in one little box.
Mickey Pearson: Oh, but that’s not a gun, dear. That’s a paperweight.
Rosalind Pearson: Of course it is, along with a family of six baby bullets.

Ray: Sorry for the interruption.
Mickey Pearson: What do you need, Ray?
Ray: Laura Pressfield has been returned home safely.
Mickey Pearson: Good. What else?
Ray: One of her associates had an accident.
Mickey Pearson: Sh*t.
Ray: He fell out of a window, boss.

[after we see Laura’s room-mate, Aslan, falling out of the window to his death]
Rosalind Pearson: Sounds like quite an extreme accident.
Ray: Yeah, it was more like a death, really.

[referring to Aslan’s death]
Rosalind Pearson: So you killed someone?
Ray: No, it was the gravity that killed him.
Rosalind Pearson: Who was he?
Ray: Some Russian kid with tracks on his arms.
Rosalind Pearson: Russian kid? That doesn’t sound good.

Fletcher: I bet you told Mickey nothing about what happened.
Ray: You’re fishing, Fletcher, because you’ve got no idea.
Fletcher: You’re right, I am fishing. Look at this. I’m fishing in my little baggie. And what have I found? Oh. Thank you. Or should I say, spasibo?
[shows Ray a photo of Aslan’s dead body after his fall]

Youth: What you saying now, fam? Huh? Now I’ve got backup.
Ray: You couldn’t back up a phone, you c**t.

Ray: Easy, lads. I’m sure you’re all roadmen, gangsters, proper naughty boys, and all that bollocks. But I come in peace. I’m not trying to steal it. I’m trying to buy it. For good money. Honest money.
Youth: [holds up the phone] Yeah? What, this phone? How much?
Ray: A full bag. Then I’ll be gone, like the darkness at dawn.

[as Coach finds out it was Mickey’s weed lab his boys raided]
Coach: Just tell me his name isn’t Mickey Pearson.
Ernie: Blimey, Coach, are you a Gypsy too? You been reading tea leaves, got a crystal ball?
Coach: That is not good news, Ernie. Mickey Pearson is terrible news in the face of a violent and expensive debt.

[Coach visits Ray to apologize for his MMA students raiding the weed lab]
Coach: My boys, they’re naive, they’ve had hard lives, and they’re just starting to come good, but they’re my lads, my responsibility. So it’s me that should be accountable for their actions. Now, I can return your goods, but I can’t return the inconvenience, the time, the f**king headache. And so I offer you my loyalty, my word, my time, until that debt is settled. I’ll make amends, but just leave me lads alone.
Ray: First of all, I’m going to need to know how your lads got the information about where our farm was sited, because that’s not common knowledge. Once we’ve overcome that little challenge, then we can talk.
Coach: Well, I can do better than that.

[to Ray; referring to the man tied up in the boot of his car]
Coach: His name is Phuhuc, but spelt with a PH, so it sounds like fuhuck.
Ray: So it’s Phuhuc?
Coach: What? Yeah. Yeah, something like that. Yeah. Anyway, he’s the kid that gave us the skunk farm job. Do you know him?
[to the Phuc]
Ray: Yeah. We’ve met before, haven’t we, Phuhuc, Phuc?
Coach: That’s the one.
Ray: Phuhuc?
Coach: Phuhuc.

[after Phuc escapes from Coach and Ray, jumps over a wall, falls onto train tracks and gets run over by a train]
Mickey Pearson: F**k’s sake, Ray! You need to invest in some parachutes. There’s a pattern emerging here.
Ray: I’m sorry, boss.
Mickey Pearson: And who’s this jumping Phuc boy, anyway?
Ray: It’s Dry Eye’s man.
Mickey Pearson: You mean Lord George’s man.

[Mickey visits Lord George as he think George is the one going after his business]
Mickey Pearson: What about tea?
Lord George: What about tea?
[he takes a sip of his tea]
Mickey Pearson: Well, that too is a vice. Caffeine is a drug, don’t you know?
Lord George: So is that what you’re here to talk to me about? Tea?
Mickey Pearson: Sweet Mary Jane is my vice of choice, as you well know. Of course, I’m addicted to selling it, not consuming it. I specifically chose to deal in marijuana. Sure, I could see there was more to be made in shifting the white, or the brown powder, as you so chose. But, you see, my jam, it doesn’t kill anyone, and I like that. While your poison, is and always has been, a destroyer of worlds. So, yes, your facilitation is most definitely participation. But I’m not here to give you a sermon on situational ethics.
Lord George: So why the f**k are you here?
[just then George violently throws up]

[after Mickey poisons George’s tea as retaliation for going after his business]
Mickey Pearson: You’re starting a war with me, George! And I’m trying to moonwalk with elegance here, but I’m finding it very f**king difficult.

Mickey Pearson: Should you try and undermine me, or should you attempt to threaten my position again, I will be forced to accept your call to arms. Do you understand?
[George nods]
Mickey Pearson: Good. Now, I can see you’re feeling somewhat under the weather. That’s because I spiked your tea with a nasty little parasitic genus called shigella. Left unattended, you will sh*t yourself to death before the sun doth set. I suggest taking two of these fizzy biscuits. You’ll be fine in an hour, or two, long enough to consider your past indiscretions. And, George, if I can get to you in your own kitchen, I can get to you anywhere.

[referring to Mickey]
Lord George: But you did go behind my back, and offer to buy his business?
Dry Eye: Yeah. Yeah, I did. Now, let me warn you the way you warn me. There comes a point where the young succeed the old. Don’t push me.

[as Fletcher show Ray a photo of Dry Eye and Matthew]
Ray: So Matthew knows Dry Eye. So what?
Fletcher: Well, yes, I agree. Perhaps they were just meeting up to talk about holidaying in the Maldives, or the long-term implications of leaving the EU. But I filmed it, had it lip-read, translated and transcribed. Rather like the classic 1974 film The Conversation, starring Gene Hackman and John Cazale. You know, Coppola slipped that one out between the Godfathers. It wasn’t really for me. It’s a bit boring, to be honest.

[as Fletcher shows Ray footage of Dry Eye and Matthew speaking in Cantonese and they are reading Fletcher’s translated lines]
Ray: “There was an incident. Lord George didn’t come through it.”
Fletcher: “Didn’t come through it? The last thing you need to do is attract any octopus.”
Ray: Octopus? What does that mean? It’s not a very good translation.
Fletcher: No, there’s nothing wrong with the translation. Matthew’s not that fluent. And it’s Cantonese. Just go with it, and fill in the blanks.

[as they continue to watch Fletcher’s footage of Dry Eye and Matthew and read the translated lines]
Ray: “There will be repercussions for Michael’s actions.”
Fletcher: “You think you’re running things, do you? Don’t stroke my mouse hair.”
Ray: What does “mouse hair” mean?
Fletcher: Yeah, I think what he means is, “Don’t jeopardize my deal,” but I admit that one’s a bit of a googly. Then Matthew loses it a bit, and his translation goes completely out of the window. Something about springtime and sweaters. I think what he means is he’s upset. And then Dry Eye says something, but some c**t moved in front of me, so I didn’t get that either.

[to Ray; after he shows his footage of the meeting between Dry Eye and Matthew]
Fletcher: And there you have it. That’s all I’ve got. Sorry. Show’s over. But I think it’s quite clear that they’re not just mahjong partners, are they?

[as Dry Eye tries to kidnap Rosalind]
Dry Eye: You know how it works. You either come with me, or Tony here is going to make you come with me.
Rosalind Pearson: You’re in my office under my roof. It’s not your position for Tony to do anything other than to f**k off back from whence he came.

[Rosalind gets out the 2-shot derringer Matthew gave Mickey earlier]
Dry Eye: What’s that? Is that a paperweight?
Rosalind Pearson: Funny you should say that. Turns out anything with weight can be a paperweight.
Dry Eye: What are you going to do with it?
Rosalind Pearson: Well, that’s up to you, isn’t it? Either you do as I tell you to, and use the door, or I’m going to shoot fat Tony right between the eyes. You see, this gun’s only got two bullets, so I’m not going to f**k about illustrating its significance. You’re going to have to trust me on that. The alternative is a little bit absolute.
Dry Eye: I’m going to have to check your grammar on that. It can’t be just a little bit absolute. It either is, or it isn’t.
Rosalind Pearson: Whatever it is, I’ve lost my patience. I’m telling you, I will squeeze this trigger and Tony will be no more.
[we then see her shoot Tony and the other henchmen, and as Dry Eye is about to rape her, Mickey reaches her in time to kill Dry Eye]

Ray: You’re too smart to be blackmailing us, Fletcher.
Fletcher: Yes, yes, and obviously I’ve taken precautionary measures. You can do all kinds of horrible things to me if you want. I might even enjoy them. But you’d have to leave the country and never come back.

Fletcher: [to Ray] You see, it was Matthew who told Dry Eye the location of Mickey’s farm, so he could steal his white widow super cheese to cause ripples, and reduce the market value. And that is why Phuc, in turn, got those juice-swilling, acne-backed muscle Marys to do the job. It was Matthew who set this whole train of events off. But what he did not plan on, you see, was Dry Eye, killing Lord George.

[to Dry Eye during their meeting]
Matthew: You’ve been in this paddling pool for two minutes. I’ve been swimming in the ocean with the sharks for twenty years. I’ll tell you how this plays out. You will drown, and then my Mossad crabs will eat you.

Fletcher: [to Ray] And this, my love, is why I want my hard-earned twenty million pounds. Because not only do I know exactly how Mickey’s business operates, but I also know that the very man he’s trying to sell it to is trying to force him into selling it on the cheap, and has indirectly started a war. So, you see, I think you should be calling me your trusted consigliere, or your spy behind the lines, your intellectual reconnaissance, if you prefer.

[after he’s finished his blackmailing story]
Fletcher: So, strong recommendation, just pay up and watch me recede into the sunset blowing kisses, yes?
Ray: Well, then, time to use the door, you black bastard.
Fletcher: Well, that’s just silly, isn’t it, because I’m not black.
Ray: No, but your f**king soul is, you dark c**t. Now, out of my house, because I’m going to bed.
Fletcher: Can I come with you?
Ray: No, but you can go smoke the exhaust pipe in the back of your hearse.
Fletcher: I might come anyway. You’ll just hear me scratching about in the dark, w**king into a hanky.

[as they watch the blackmail footage of Big Dave and the pig]
Ray: You can’t unsee it once you’ve seen it, can you?
Coach: No, you can’t unsee it. It’s nightmare fuel. That will be with me forever.

Coach: [to Ray] I’m not a f**king gangster. Now, I’ve been forced to do some gangster things, that’s okay. But I’m not the gift that keeps on giving. So with the greatest respect, I’ll do this one last thing for you, and then that’s it. No más. Three strikes and I’m out.

[to Mickey as they meet in a frozen fish plant]
Matthew: Your unit economics have taken a hit, and forecasting out your top-line growth margin in the current inimical climate, I calculate what was worth four hundred million a month ago, must now be valued at an anemic, mm, one thirty. You see, it’s not about the first domino that fell, Michael. It’s about the last.

Mickey Pearson: I like your domino analogy. The question I ask is, who tumbled the first domino?
Matthew: I’m afraid that’s not my concern, or my business, Michael.
Mickey Pearson: At the risk of contradicting you, it is very much your business, and certainly your concern. Only you made one mistake.
Matthew: That being?
Mickey Pearson: You seem to have mistaken me for some kind of a c**t. Let me introduce you to the first domino.
[Mickey reveals Dry Eye’s frozen dead body]

[after Mickey reveals Dry Eye’s frozen dead body]
Matthew: It’s a tad dramatic, isn’t it, corpses in freezers? Who is this man? What’s he got to do with anything that I’m talking about?
Mickey Pearson: I take it with that statement you are in denial of so-said relationship with this frozen Chinaman?
Matthew: Well, of course I’m in denial of it. I don’t have relationships with dead, frozen Chinamen.

Matthew: Business is business, Michael. It’s nothing personal.
Mickey Pearson: While I am not emotional about the money, there is a price indebted to me for the blood I’ve gotten on my hands restoring order to the untidiness that you created. And that price, according to you, four hundred minus one-thirty, is two hundred and seventy million dollars. And I’m keeping the business, while you are getting in the freezer. And you will make that transaction if you want to get out of the freezer. It is twenty-five below zero in there, so I assume you’ll last about an hour. That said, I wouldn’t f**k about, because frostbite is very expensive on the fingers and toes, so I would type as quickly as possible while you have the use of them.

Mickey Pearson: As stated, I am not emotional about the money. But I am emotional about the fact that someone laid their hands on my wife. My wife! No amount of money on God’s green earth can pay for that transgression, Matthew. No, for that, I want a pound of flesh.
[he picks up a sharp knife]
Matthew: A pound of flesh?
Mickey Pearson: It matters not to me where on your anatomy it is withdrawn from. If you don’t have the stomach to take it for yourself, big Bunny here is very adept with a knife, and, as you can see, he’s dressed for the weather. But a penny short, or a gram shy, and that freezer door does not open. Am I clear? Good.

[after Fletcher meets Ray to get his payment]
Ray: Of course we were aware of what Matthew was up to. We’re not complete f**king idiots. I’ve been onto you for a long time, Fletcher. I knew you’d been following Michael. They’re very similar, our jobs. Only I’m better at it than you are. I knew when you came over that night that you’d only be there for half an hour, to tell me how clever you are and try to blackmail us.

Ray: You’re never going to be a predator with us, Fletcher. You’re always going to be prey.

[after Fletcher reveals that he sold info to Aslan’s father]
Fletcher: The Russians are going to clean house. And you are part of that house, Raymond. They’re going to get Michael when he comes out of his meeting at the fish market. And they are coming here. So you see what I’ve done there? By telling you, I’ve saved your lives. Which I think in turn saves mine, doesn’t it?
[then we see Coach killing the two Russian hitmen sent to kill Ray, and Coaches boys killing the thugs who kidnapped Mickey and Fletcher escapes in the chaos]

[we see Fletcher pitching his story about Mickey to Miramax]
Fletcher: So the Toddlers spray the car with bullets, killing the Russians. The car rolls to a stop. Smash cut to black. Titles.
Movie Producer: So, what happened to Michael? I need an ending.
Fletcher: No, no, no, my darling. What you need, is a sequel. Think it over. Have a read. You know my fee. I’m off to La La to talk to the competition. Think about that. Got a plane to catch. And I’m gone.

[after his meeting, Fletcher gets into a cab only to find Ray is the driver]
Ray: Buenas tardes, Fletcher-mondo.
Fletcher: Raymond. Well, well, well. A man of many vocations, aren’t you?
[Fletcher tries to open the cab doors, but finds they are all locked]
Ray: Now I want you to play a game with me, Fletcher.

[last lines; after Raymond captures Fletcher in a cab]
Rosalind Pearson: He’s got Fletcher.
Mickey Pearson: [voice over] If you wish to be the king of the jungle, it’s not enough to act like a king. You must be the king. There can be no doubt. Because doubt causes chaos and one’s own demise. My queen told me that.
[to Rosalind; referring to them having sex]
Mickey Pearson: Any chance?

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