You know what that means.
That’s fucking genious.
The beauty of this is the simplicity. You make the plan too complex the things get fucked off. We can’t do that, dude. Throw them the money. The handoff scene. The dude is in some serious trouble.
Eh, fuck it dude, let’s go bowling.
I miss that friend.
I am the New Dude.
I’m telling it as it is.
We want to do this together.
What the fuck is the problem?
They are gonna kill the woman.
The poor slut kidnapped herself.
I don’t roll in shabazz.
I don’t work. I don’t handle money. I don’t fucking bowl.
So I pitch. «who’s got a fucking 999.999€ siting in your car.
Where’s your car, dude?
The police interviews your ass. They are after you. My briefcase. Papers. Business papers. I’m unemployed. My rug was stolen. Separete incidents. You find these stolen cars? And my briefcase. We can close the file on that one. I could show up to the artist studio and undestand where she is coming from. Vagina. Something uncortable to hear. The artist has a point. Feminism is our quest.
Sex, the physical act of love; coitos.
The men about women and hating sex. Common. How lame is that, macho?
I’m sorry if your step mother is a nympho.
I know that guy: he’s nihilist.
The dude can tell who’s a nihilists.
Fuck it. I lost a little money.
The plane crashing into the mountain. Like that german white dude.
Has it ever occur to you that this could be a lot more complex, it might not be just a simple, I’ve got information, new shit has come to light,…
Hasn’t that ever occur to you, sir?
You guys think that you can give me the 20.000€ in cash. I have to talk to my accountant.
Give him the envelope.
That wasn’t her toe, dude.
I’m staying. Finishing my coffee. Enjoying my coffee.
Hey, this is a private residency, man.
They got us working in shifts.