Crash
Crash

[first lines]
Graham: It's the sense of touch. In any real city, you walk, you know? You brush past people, people bump into you. In L.A., nobody touches you. We're always behind this metal and glass. I think we miss that touch so much, that we crash into each other, just so we can feel something.

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Anthony: Look around! You couldn't find a whiter, safer or better lit part of this city. But this white woman sees two black guys, who look like UCLA students, strolling down the sidewalk and her reaction is blind fear. I mean, look at us! Are we dressed like gang-bangers? Huh? No. Do we look threatening? No. Fact, if anybody should be scared around here, it's us: We're the only

two black faces surrounded by a sea of over-caffeinated white people, patrolled by the triggerhappy LAPD. So you tell me, why aren't we scared?
Peter: Because we have guns?
Anthony: You could be right.

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Cameron: [to Anthony] Look at me. You embarrass me. You embarrass yourself.

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Jean: I am angry all the time... and I don't know why.

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Shereen: They think we're Arab. When did Persian become Arab?

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Jean: I want the locks changed again in the morning.
Rick: You what? Look, why don't you just go lie down, huh? Have you checked on James?
Jean: Well of course I've checked on James. I've checked on him every five minutes since we've been home. Do not patronize me. I want the locks changed again in the morning.

Rick: Shhh. It's ok. Just go to bed, all right?
Jean: [interrupting] You know what, didn't I just tell you not to treat me like a child?
Maria: I'm sorry Mrs. Jean. It's okay?... I go home now?
Rick: It's fine. Thank you very much for staying Maria.
Maria: You're welcome. No problem.

Goodnight Mrs. Jean.
Jean: [Rudely] Goodnight.
Rick: [to Maria] We'll see you tomorrow.
Jean: I would like the locks changed again in the morning. And you know what, you might mention that next time we'd appreciate it if they didn't send a gang member...
Rick: A gang member?

Jean: Yes, yes.
Rick: What do you mean? That kid in there?
Jean: Yes. The guy in there with the shaved head, the pants around his ass, the prison tattoos.
Rick: Those are not prison tattoos.
Jean: [Interrupting] Oh really? And he's not gonna go sell our key to one of his gang banger

friends the moment he is out our door?
Rick: You've had a really tough night. I think it would be best if you just went upstairs right now and...
Jean: [Interrupting] And what? Wait for them to break in?
Jean: [Yelling] I just had a gun pointed in my face!
Rick: [Agitated] You lower you voice!

Jean: [Yelling] ... and it was my fault because I knew it was gonna happen. But if a white person sees two black men walking towards her and she turns and walks in the other direction, she's a racist, right?
[Furious]
Jean: Well I got scared and I didn't say anything and ten seconds later I had a
[Jabbing her finger into Rick's chest]

Jean: gun in my face. Now I am telling you, your amigo in there is gonna sell our key to one of his homies and this time it'd be really fucking great if you acted like you actually gave a shit!

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Jean: Do you want to hear something funny?
Maria: What's that Mrs. Jean?
Jean: You're the best friend I've got.

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Graham: [on the phone] Mom, I can't talk to you right now, okay? I'm having sex with a white woman.
[hangs up, and Ria gets out of bed]
Graham: OK, where were we?
Ria: I was white, and you were about to jerk off in the shower.
Graham: Oh, shit. Come on. I would have said you were Mexican, but I don't

think it would have pissed her off as much.
Ria: Why do you keep everybody a certain distance, huh? What, you start to feel something and panic?
Graham: Come on, Maria. You're just pissed 'cause I answered the phone.
Ria: That's just where I begin to get pissed. I mean, really, what kind of man speaks to his mother that way,

huh?
Graham: Oh, this is about my mother. What do you know about my mother?
Ria: If I was your father, I'd kick your fucking ass.
Graham: OK, I was raised badly. Why don't you take your clothes off, get back into bed, and teach me a lesson?
Ria: You want a lesson? I'll give you a lesson. How 'bout a

geography lesson? My father's from Puerto Rico. My mother's from El Salvador. Neither one of those is Mexico.
Graham: Ah. Well then I guess the big mystery is, who gathered all those remarkably different cultures together and taught them all how to park their cars on their lawns?

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Anthony: That waitress sized us up in two seconds. We're black and black people don't tip. So she wasn't gonna waste her time. Now somebody like that? Nothing you can do to change their mind.
Peter: So, uh... how much did you leave?
Anthony: You expect me to pay for that kind of service?

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Lucien: You watch the Discovery Channel?
Anthony: Not a lot.
Peter: They got some good shit on that channel.
Lucien: Every night there is a show with somebody shining a little blue light and finding tiny specks of blood splattered on carpets and walls and ceiling fans, bathroom fixtures and special-edition

plastic Burger King tray cups. The next thing they show is some stupid redneck in handcuffs who looks absolutely stunned that this is happening to him. Sometimes the redneck is actually WATCHING the Discovery Channel when they break in to arrest him. And he still can't figure out how on earth they could've caught him!
[pauses]
Lucien: Psst. Do I look like I wanna be

on the Discovery Channel?
Anthony: No.
Lucien: Then get the fuck outta my shop.

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Rick: Fuck! Why do these guys have to be black? I mean, why? No matter how we spin this thing, I'm either gonna lose the black vote or I'm gonna lose the law and order vote!
Karen: You know, I think you're worrying too much. You have a lot of support in the black community.
Rick: All right. If we can't duck this thing, we're gonna

have to neutralize it. What we need is a picture of me pinning a medal on a black man. Bruce? The firefighter - the one that saved the camp or something - Northridge... what's his name?
Bruce: He's Iraqi.
Rick: He's Iraqi? Well, he looks black.
Bruce: He's dark-skinned, sir, but he's Iraqi, his name's Saddam Hassif.

Rick: Saddam? His name's Saddam? Oh, that's real good, Bruce. Yeah, I'm gonna pin a medal on an Iraqi named Saddam. Give yourself a raise, will you?

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Anthony: You see any white people in there waiting an hour and thirty two minutes for a plate of spaghetti? Huh? And how many cups of coffee did we get?
Peter: You don't drink coffee and I didn't want any.
Anthony: That woman poured cup after cup to every single white person around us. Did she even ask you if you wanted any?

Peter: We didn't get any coffee that you didn't want and I didn't order, and this is evidence of racial discrimination? Did you happen to notice our waitress was black?
Anthony: And black women don't think in stereotypes? You tell me something man. When was the last time you met one who didn't think she knew everything about your lazy ass? Before you even

open your mouth, huh?

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Anthony: Listen to it man. Nigga this, Nigga that. You think white go around callin' each other "honky" all day, man? "Hey, honky, how's business?" "Going great, cracker, we're diversifying!"

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Daniel: She had these little stubby wings, like she could've glued them on, you know, like I'm gonna believe she's a fairy. So she said, "I'll prove it." So she reaches into her backpack and she pulls out this invisible cloak and she ties it around my neck. And she tells me that it's impenetrable. You know what impenetrable means? It means nothing can go through it. No bullets,

nothing. She told me that if I wore it, nothing would hurt me. So I did. And my whole life, I never got shot, stabbed, nothing. I mean, how weird is that?

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Anthony: Get the fuck outta the car!
Cameron: You get the fuck outta the car!
Anthony: Get outta the fucking car!
Cameron: It's my fucking car!
Anthony: It's my fucking gun!
[Cameron grabs Anthony's gun]
Cameron: Fuck, it's my gun now!

Anthony: Gimme my fucking gun!

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Anthony: [as he let go all the Asian people that are in the truck] Look, here's 40 bucks. Buy everybody chop suey. You understand?
[an Asian man takes the money and doesn't say anything as he leaves]
Anthony: Dopey fucking Chinaman.

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Flanagan: Fucking black people, huh?
Graham: What did you just say?
Flanagan: I mean, I know all the sociological reasons why, per capita eight times more black men are incarcerated than white men... Schools are a disgrace, lack of opportunity, bias in the judicial system, all that stuff... But still... but still, it's... it's gotta

get to you, I mean, on a gut level, as a black man. They just can't keep their hands out of the cookie jar.

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Flanagan: Actually, we were thinking of you until we saw that. It's your brothers file. Twenty something years old and already three felonys. Three Strikes Law, the kid's going away for life for stealing a car. Christ, that's a shitty law. There's a warrant in there. But still, he had every opportunity you had. Fucking black people, huh?
Graham: So, uh...

all I need to do to make this disappear is to frame a potentially innocent man.
Flanagan: What are you? The fucking Defender of All Things White? We're talking about a white that shot three black men and you're arguing with me, that maybe we're not being "fair" to him? You know, what? Maybe you're right. Maybe you're right. Maybe Lewis did provoke this. Maybe he got exactly

what was coming to him. Or, maybe, stoned or not, being a black man in the valley was enough to get him killed. There was no one there to see who shot first, so there is no way way to know. Which means, we could get this wrong. Maybe that's what happened with your brother. Maybe we got it wrong. Maybe Lewis isn't the only one who deserves the benefit of the doubt. You're the one closest to all

this. You need to tell us. What does your gut tell you?

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Officer Ryan: You know, you don't like me, that's fine, I'm a prick, my father doesn't deserve to suffer like this, he was a janitor, struggled his whole life, saved enough to start his own company, twenty three employees, all of them black, paid them equal wages when no one else was doing that, for thirty years he worked side by side with those men sweeping and carrying garbage,

then the city council decides to give to minority owned companies preference to city contracts and overnight my father loses everything, his business, his home, his wife, everything, not once does he blame your people, now I'm not asking to help me, I'm asking you to do this small thing for a man who lost everything, so people like you can reap the benefits, and do you know what's its going to

cost you? Nothing, just a flick of your pen.

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Anthony: You could fill the Staple Center with what you don't know.
Peter: The Kings are playing tonight.
Anthony: You don't like hockey! Only reason you say you do is to piss me off!
Peter: ...I love hockey.