Bob: Fucking punk. Go out to dinner dressed like you're still in you living room! You wear those big hippity-hoppity clown shoes! You speak to women terribly! You treat then despicably! You hurt harmless dogs that can't defend themselves! I'm tired of you man. I'm tired of you. You embarrass me! You know, he would have kept coming back. That's what he would have done. People like
this, you let them take something from you, they just act like... and they keep coming back and you still owe them and they never, never change. You can never change their mind!
Nadia: Hey... you just... I mean, you just fucking shot him.
Bob: Yes, I did. Absolutely. He was going to hurt our dog.
Nadia: Bob?
Bob: Hum?
Nadia: Can I... can I go now?
Bob: Yeah, yeah, of course. You can.
Nadia: So you... you'll let me go?
Bob: Sure, sure. Why not? And, and nobody will ever hurt you again. Okay? This is done. Okay? You got your stuff? Go on now.
Nadia: But now... now
you'll think I'll talk. I won't talk Bob.
Bob: I know you won't.
Nadia: I promise. I won't.
Bob: Nadia, you can't. Not with these people. They won't...
Nadia: Your people Bob.
Bob: No, they're not my... I'm not them. And I'm not THIS.
Bob: Are you doing something desperate? Something we can't clean up this time?
Bob: Biggest day in the world tomorrow, I can't get you on the phone.
Cousin Marv: Oh yeah, yeah I forgot to tell you, I don't feel good... so I'm not coming in. Call the BarTemps.
Bob: I did already. Super Bowl. We always use them.
Cousin Marv: So what you need me for?
Bob: I don't.
But... you're blowing off the biggest tip day of the year.
Cousin Marv: What, I work for tips now?
[pauses]
Cousin Marv: You ever go to the front of the bar and take a look at the sign on the bar? Whose name is on it? That's my name. 'Cause I used to own it once.
Bob: Yeah, you been playing that flute for a long time
now.
Cousin Marv: And you've been awfully fresh since you got that dog you mistake for a kid.
Bob: Marv, you can't redo it. All right? They pressed, you blinked. It's done. It's over. It's been over for a while now.
Cousin Marv: Well, I'm not the guy who wasted his entire life waiting for it to start.
Bob: I did that?
Cousin Marv: At least I had something once. I was respected. I was feared! When I walked into a place, people sat up. They sat up straight. They noticed! What'd you ever have?
Cousin Marv: And the fucking bar stool you put that old biddy at! You bought her free drinks and don't you think I know you did it on purpose?
That was my stool, and nobody sat on that stool because it was cousin Marv's stool! And that meant something! That meant something!
Bob: But it didn't. Ever. It was just a stool.
Bob: I shot him in the face, twice. Then I wrapped his head in a towel, and I stabbed him in the chest in his heart, so he would bleed out, and I put him in my bathtub and watched him drain. Then I put him in an oil tank with laundry detergent and lye, and I sealed it back up.
Cousin Marv: "Find my money." If we knew where their money was, it would mean we knew who robbed us. Which would mean we were in on it, which means they'd shoot us in the face. These fucking Chechnyans.
Bob: Chechens, Marv.
Cousin Marv: What?
Bob: They're Chechens. They're from Chechnya, but you call them
Chechens.
Cousin Marv: Yeah, they're from Chechnya.
Bob: Yeah, I said that. You don't call people from Ireland Irelandians, do you?
Bob: [on looking after his new puppy] I mean, it's a huge responsibility, right?
Cousin Marv: Well, it's a dog. It's not like some long lost retarded relative shows up at your door in a wheelchair and a colostomy bag hanging out of his ass. Says "I'm yours now. Take care of me." It's not that. It's a dog.
Bob: Yeah, Marv thought he was a tough guy. We had a crew once. Back in the day, when we was young, we made a little money but it was never, you know... So a mean crew rolls into town, and, you know... we flinched. That's it. End of the crew.
Nadia: But you're still in the life.
Bob: Me?
Nadia: Yeah.
Bob: No. No. No, no, no. No, I just tend the bar.
[first lines]
Bob: [narrating] There are places in my neighborhood no one ever thinks about. You see them every day and every day you forget about them. These are the places where all the things happen that people are *not* allowed to see. You see, in Brooklyn, money changes hands all night long. It's just not the kind you can deposit in a bank. All that money needs to end
up somewhere. They call it a drop bar. A bar the bosses choose randomly each night to be the safe for an entire city. You never know up front when *your* bar becomes the drop bar. You just take all the city's dirtiest money and bag men come and go from all over town and nobody ever sees it coming. Nobody ever sees it going. And then they could tell you to be the drop bar next week. Or maybe even
next year.
Bob: The point is, you never know. In the meantime, me, I just tend bar. And wait.