Reservoir Dogs Quotes

Nice Guy Eddie: C'mon, throw in a buck!
Mr. Pink: Uh-uh, I don't tip.
Nice Guy Eddie: You don't tip?
Mr. Pink: Nah, I don't believe in it.
Nice Guy Eddie: You don't believe in tipping?
Mr. Blue: You know what these chicks make? They make shit.
Mr.

Pink: Don't give me that. She don't make enough money that she can quit.
Nice Guy Eddie: I don't even know a fucking Jew who'd have the balls to say that. Let me get this straight: you don't ever tip?
Mr. Pink: I don't tip because society says I have to. All right, if someone deserves a tip, if they really put forth an effort, I'll give them

something a little something extra. But this tipping automatically, it's for the birds. As far as I'm concerned, they're just doing their job.
Mr. Blue: Hey, our girl was nice.
Mr. Pink: She was okay. She wasn't anything special.
Mr. Blue: What's special? Take you in the back and suck your dick?
Nice Guy

Eddie: I'd go over twelve percent for that.

Mr. Pink: Hey, why am I Mr. Pink?
Joe: Because you're a faggot, alright?
Mr. Pink: Why can't we pick our own colors?
Joe: No way, no way. Tried it once, it doesn't work. You get four guys all fighting over who's gonna be Mr. Black, but they don't know each other, so nobody wants to back down. No way. I pick.

You're Mr. Pink. Be thankful you're not Mr. Yellow.
Mr. Brown: Yeah, but Mr. Brown, that's a little too close to Mr. Shit.
Mr. Pink: Mr. Pink sounds like Mr. Pussy. How 'bout if I'm Mr. Purple? That sounds good to me. I'll be Mr. Purple.
Joe: You're not Mr. Purple. Some guy on some other job is Mr. Purple. Your Mr. PINK.

Mr. White: Who cares what your name is?
Mr. Pink: Yeah, that's easy for your to say, you're Mr. White. You have a cool-sounding name. Alright look, if it's no big deal to be Mr. Pink, do you wanna trade?
Joe: Hey! NOBODY'S trading with ANYBODY. This ain't a goddamn, fucking city council meeting, you know? Now listen up, Mr. Pink.

There's two ways you can go on this job: my way or the highway. Now what's it gonna be, Mr. Pink?
Mr. Pink: Jesus Christ, Joe, fucking forget about it. It's beneath me. I'm Mr. Pink. Let's move on.
Joe: I'll move on when I feel like it... All you guys got the goddamn message?... I'm so goddamn mad, hollering at you guys I can hardly talk. Pssh. Let's

go to work.

[first lines]
Mr. Brown: Let me tell you what 'Like a Virgin' is about. It's all about a girl who digs a guy with a big dick. The entire song. It's a metaphor for big dicks.
Mr. Blonde: No, no. It's about a girl who is very vulnerable. She's been fucked over a few times. Then she meets some guy who's really sensitive...
Mr.

Brown: Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa... Time out Greenbay. Tell that fucking bullshit to the tourists.
Joe: Toby... Who the fuck is Toby? Toby...
Mr. Brown: 'Like a Virgin' is not about this sensitive girl who meets a nice fella. That's what "True Blue" is about, now, granted, no argument about that.
Mr. Orange: Which

one is 'True Blue'?
Nice Guy Eddie: 'True Blue' was a big ass hit for Madonna. I don't even follow this Tops In Pops shit, and I've at least heard of "True Blue".
Mr. Orange: Look, asshole, I didn't say I ain't heard of it. All I asked was how does it go? Excuse me for not being the world's biggest Madonna fan.
Mr. Blonde:

Personally, I can do without her.
Mr. Blue: I like her early stuff. You know, 'Lucky Star', 'Borderline' - but once she got into her 'Papa Don't Preach' phase, I don't know, I tuned out.
Mr. Brown: Hey, you guys are making me lose my... train of thought here. I was saying something, what was it?
Joe: Oh, Toby was this Chinese

girl, what was her last name?
Mr. White: What's that?
Joe: I found this old address book in a jacket I ain't worn in a coon's age. What was that name?
Mr. Brown: What the fuck was I talking about?
Mr. Pink: You said 'True Blue' was about a nice girl, a sensitive girl who meets a nice guy, and that 'Like

a Virgin' was a metaphor for big dicks.
Mr. Brown: Lemme tell you what 'Like a Virgin' is about. It's all about this cooze who's a regular fuck machine, I'm talking morning, day, night, afternoon, dick, dick, dick, dick, dick, dick, dick, dick, dick.
Mr. Blue: How many dicks is that?
Mr. White: A lot.
Mr.

Brown: Then one day she meets this John Holmes motherfucker and it's like, whoa baby, I mean this cat is like Charles Bronson in the 'Great Escape', he's digging tunnels. Now, she's gettin' the serious dick action and she's feeling something she ain't felt since forever. Pain. Pain.
Joe: Chew? Toby Chew?
Mr. Brown: It hurts her. It shouldn't

hurt her, you know, her pussy should be Bubble Yum by now, but when this cat fucks her it hurts. It hurts just like it did the first time. You see the pain is reminding a fuck machine what it once was like to be a virgin. Hence, 'Like a Virgin'.
Joe: Wong?

Mr. Orange: [after killing Mr. Blonde] Hey you, what's your name?
LAPD Officer Marvin Nash: Marvin.
Mr. Orange: Marvin what?
LAPD Officer Marvin Nash: Marvin Nash.
Mr. Orange: Listen to me, Marvin, I'm a c...
[pauses]
Mr. Orange: ...listen to me, Marvin

Nash, I'm a cop.
LAPD Officer Marvin Nash: Yeah, I know.
Mr. Orange: You do?
LAPD Officer Marvin Nash: Yeah, you're name's Freddy something.
Mr. Orange: Newendyke. Freddy Newendyke.
LAPD Officer Marvin Nash: Frankie Fischetti introduced us about five months ago.

Mr. Orange: Shit, I don't remember that at all.
LAPD Officer Marvin Nash: I do. Freddy... Freddy, how do I look?
Mr. Orange: [Freddy laughs] I don't know what to tell you, Marvin.
LAPD Officer Marvin Nash: That fuck! That sick fuck! That fucking bastard!
Mr. Orange: Marvin, I need you

to hold on. There's cops waiting less than a block away.
LAPD Officer Marvin Nash: What the fuck are they waiting for? This fucking guy slashes my face, and he cuts my fucking ear off! I'm fucking deformed!
Mr. Orange: [yells] FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU! I'M FUCKIN' DYING HERE! I'M FUCKIN' DYING!
[pauses and calms down]
Mr.

Orange: All right, now you heard them, we'll make the move when they get back, so don't pussy out on me now, Marvin. We're just gonna sit here and bleed until Joe Cabot sticks his fucking head through that door!

Mr. Blonde: Listen kid, I'm not gonna bullshit you, all right? I don't give a good fuck what you know, or don't know, but I'm gonna torture you anyway, regardless. Not to get information. It's amusing, to me, to torture a cop. You can say anything you want cause I've heard it all before. All you can do is pray for a quick death, which you ain't gonna get.
[He removes his

razor]
Mr. Blonde: You ever listen to K-Billy's "Super Sounds of the Seventies" weekend? It's my personal favorite.

Mr. Blonde: What's this guy's problem?
Mr. White: Yeah I got a problem! I got a *big* fuckin' problem. Fuckin' trigger happy madman almost get's me shot!
Mr. Pink: What the fuck are you talking about?
Mr. White: That fuckin' shooting spree! In the store remember?
Mr. Blonde: Oh fuck

'em. They set off the alarm. They deserved what they got.
Mr. White: You almost killed me! Asshole! If I knew what kind of a guy you were I never would've agreed to work with you!
Mr. Blonde: Are you gonna bark all day little doggie? Or are you gonna bite?
Mr. White: What was that? I'm sorry I didn't catch it. Would you repeat

it?
Mr. Blonde: Are you gonna bark all day little doggie? Or are you gonna bite?
[Mr. White lunges for Mr. Blonde who fights back. Mr. Pink steps in between them]
Mr. Pink: You two assholes, calm the fuck down! Hey, come on! What are we on a playground here? Am I the only professional? You're actin' like a bunch of fuckin' niggers man. Did you

ever work with niggers? Just like you two always saying they're gonna kill each other!
Mr. White: You said yourself you thought about takin' him out!
Mr. Blonde: You fuckin' said that?
Mr. Pink: Yeah, I did, okay? But that was then! Right now this guy is the only I completely trust. He's too fuckin' homicidal to be workin'

with the cops.
Mr. White: You takin' his side?
Mr. Pink: Fuck sides man what we need here is a little solidarity! Somebody's stickin' a red hot poker up our asses and I wanna know who's name's on the handle. Fuck. Look I know I'm no peice of shit.
[He turns to Mr. White]
Mr. Pink: And I'm pretty sure you're okay.

[He turns to Mr. Blonde]
Mr. Pink: And I'm fuckin' positive you're on the level. So let's just try and figure out who the bad guy is, all right?

Mr. White: [snatches Joe's address book] Give me this fucking thing.
Joe: What do you think you're doing? Give me back my book!
Mr. White: I'm sick of fucking hearing it Joe, I'll give it back to you when we leave.
Joe: What do you mean, give it to me when we leave, give it back now.
Mr.

White: For the past fifteen minutes, you've been droning on about names. Toby. Toby?
[flips pages in book]
Mr. White: Toby? Toby Wong. Toby Wong? Toby Wong. Toby Chung? Fucking Charlie Chan. I got Madonna's big dick coming out of my left ear, and Toby the Jap... I don't know what - comin' out of my right.

Joe: This man set us up.
Nice Guy Eddie: Dad, I'm sorry, but I don't know what the hell's happening.
Joe: It's all right, Eddie. I do.
Mr. White: What the fuck are you talking about?
Joe: That lump of shit's working with the L.A.P.D.
Mr. Orange: Joe, I don't have

the slightest fucking idea what you're talking about.
Mr. White: Joe, I don't know what you think you know, but you're wrong.
Joe: Like hell I am.
Mr. White: Joe, trust me on this. You've made a mistake. He's a good kid. I understand. You're hot, you're super fucking pissed. We're all real emotional. But you're barking up the

wrong tree. I know this man. He wouldn't do that.
Joe: You don't know jack shit! I do! The cocksucker tipped off the cops and had Mr. Brown and Mr. Blue killed.
Mr. Pink: Mr. Blue is dead?
Joe: Dead as Dillinger.
Mr. White: How do you know all this?

Mr. Pink: [walks in] Was that a fucking set up or what?
Mr. Orange: Fucking right.
[sees a bloodied Mr. Orange lying on the floor]
Mr. Pink: Shit! Orange got tagged?
Mr. White: Gut shot.
Mr. Pink: Fuck! Where's, uh, Brown?
Mr. White: Dead.

Mr. Pink: How'd he die?
Mr. White: How the fuck do you think? The cops shot him.
Mr. Pink: This is bad. This is so fucking bad. Is it bad?
Mr. White: As opposed to good?
Mr. Pink: Man, this is fucked up. This is so fucked up. Somebody fucked us up big time, man.
Mr.

White: You really think we were set up?
Mr. Pink: Do you even doubt it, man? I don't THINK we got set up, I KNOW we got set up! I mean, really, seriously, where did all those cops come from, huh? One minute they're not there, the next minute they're there? I didn't hear any sirens. The alarm went off, okay. When an alarm goes off, you got an average of four minutes

response time. Unless a patrol car is cruising that street, at that particular moment, you got four minutes before they can realistically respond. In one minute there were seventeen blue boys out there. All loaded for bear, all knowing exactly what the fuck they were doing, and they were all just there! Remember that second wave that showed up in the cars? Okay, those were the ones responding to

the alarm, but those first motherfuckers, I'm telling you man, they were there and they were waiting for us. Haven't you fucking thought about this?

[Joe counts the tip and finds it is a buck short]
Joe: Hey, who didn't throw in?
Mr. Orange: Mr. Pink.
Joe: Mr. Pink? Why not?
Mr. Orange: He don't tip.
Joe: He don't tip? Whaddaya mean you don't tip?
Mr. Orange: He don't believe in it.

Joe: Shut up!

[the shot Mr. Orange knows some things about Mr. White]
Mr. White: Well, he knows a little about me.
Mr. Pink: What? W-Wait. You didn't tell him your name, did you?
Mr. White: I told him my first name, and where I was from.
Mr. Pink: Why?
Mr. White: I told him where I was from a

few days ago. It was just a natural conversation.
Mr. Pink: And what was tellin' him your name when you weren't supposed to?
Mr. White: He asked.
[pause]
Mr. White: We had just gotten away from the cops. He just got shot. It was my fault he got shot. He's a fuckin' bloody mess - he's screaming. I swear to god, I thought

he was gonna die right then and there. I'm tryin' to comfort him, telling him not to worry, everything's gonna be okay, I'm gonna take care of him. And he asked me what my name was. I mean, the man was dyin' in my arms. What the fuck was I supposed to do? Tell him: "Sorry, I can't give out that fuckin' information! It's against the rules! I don't trust you enough!"? Or maybe I should've, but I

couldn't! Fuck you and fuck Joe!
Mr. Pink: [sarcastically] Oh, I'm sure it was a beautiful scene between you...
Mr. White: DON'T FUCKING PATRONIZE ME!

Nice Guy Eddie: Let me say this out loud, 'cause I wanna get it straight in my head. You're saying that Mr. Blonde was gonna kill you, then when we got back, he was going kill us, take the satchel of diamonds, and scram. I'm right about that, right? That's correct? That's your story?
Mr. Orange: [weakly] I swear on my mother's eternal soul that's what

happened.
Nice Guy Eddie: The man... Mr. Blonde... . who you just killed was just released from prison. Four years ago, he got caught at a company warehouse full of hot items. He could've fuckin' walked. All he had to do was say my dad's name, but he didn't; he kept his fucking mouth shut. And did his fuckin' time, and he did it like a man. He did four years for us. Four

years. So, Mr. Orange... you're tellin' me this very good friend of mine, who did four years for my father, who in four years never made a deal, no matter what they dangled in front of him... you're telling me that now, that now this man is free, and we're making good on our commitment to him, he's just gonna decide... out of the fucking blue... to rip us off? Why don't you tell me what really

happened?
Joe: [walks in] What the hell for? It'd just be more bullshit.