Mr. Hertz: What the hell *is* that thing? Oh my God, that is twisted! That sick son of a bitch! Oh, that sick son of a bitch suckered us *again*!
Mr. Hertz: Oh, yes-siree-Bob, it certainly has been a pleasure. But before we part ways, tell me one thing: I am dead on about who you are, right?
Mr. Smith: Say that again?
Mr. Hertz: I said, I am dead...
Mr. Smith: [interrupting him] Stop. That part of it you got right.
Mr. Smith: Do you know what I hate?
Baby's Mother: [in pain] No!
Mr. Smith: I hate these forty-year-old jack-holes wearing ponytails. That pony tail doesn't make you look hip, young, or cool.
[Smith shoots a ponytail henchmen in the head]
Mr. Hertz: Does anyone know what a Jimmy Cagney love scene is? It's when Cagney lets the good guy live.
[lobby of henchmen laugh]
Mr. Hertz: [growing serious] And if that happens in this show, I will do a lot more than ask for my money back.
Mr. Smith: [after making Hammerson shoot himself] Aren't guns just fucking great, Hammerson?
Mr. Smith: [to presidential candidate Senator Rutledge] Let me give you a piece of advice. Never trust the people who stand to profit, plain and simple. They're the bad guys.
Mr. Smith: [after biting into a carrot and pointing a gun at Hertz] What's up, doc?
Mr. Hertz: Ooh, you're a wascally wabbit.
[points his gun at Smith]
Mr. Hertz: But you're not wascally enough.
Mr. Smith: Yeah? That's a six-shooter. I just counted six shots. You've blown your load.
[repeated line]
Mr. Smith: You know what I hate?
[Smith wakes up and sees Hertz pointing his gun at him]
Mr. Hertz: Don't move, Mr. Hero.
[cell phone rings]
Mr. Hertz: I can't talk right now, honey. I'm right in the middle of something.
DQ: Are you hungry?
Pawnshop Owner: You wanna buy bullets with food stamps?
Mr. Smith: [shrugging] It's just as good as cash.
Mr. Hertz: [refering to Mr. Smith's techniques] National sports pistol champion at age 10. Recruited by the army. Sound like black ops got him and trained him.
Lone Man: You know we were never really trying to kill you. We only wanted to scare you into surrendering.
Mr. Smith: Well, that's one way to explain why you can't shoot straight.
Mr. Smith: Fuck you, ya fuckin' fuckers.
Mr. Hertz: Stop the car. He was here.
Hertz's Driver: Come on, what makes you think he was here?
Mr. Hertz: Trust me, I know what people do and I know what people think. I always have. Even as a kid I had this gift, and you should have seen the playground hurt I laid down playing rock-paper-scissors.
