Del: I'm so goddamn horny I could fuck mud. Chris Garret:
[police arriving outside, Garret has Del tied into a chair hanging out of the window]
Now if you feel the need to piss your pants Del? just squeeze them cheeks... real tight... Detective Chambers: [approaching Garret who is near Del at the window] Ok Garret, we'll take it from here... Chris Garret: It's just about time anyway... Detective Chambers: [walking after Garret who has started walking away from the window where Del's chair is rigged with a bomb] What's that mean?... Garret... Detective Chambers: [Del explodes, Chambers is shocked] Damn it Garret... we wanted him alive... Chris Garret: [smiling] Ain't life a bitch? [after killing a bunch of thugs] Chris Garret: Welcome to my world. Chris Garret: Running from your fear is more painful than facing it. Mobster: [Garret approaching them] Who are you...? Chris Garret: [to five Arab terrorists in a restaurant] I've come to deliver a warning from Mr. Lacombe. Mobster: Just you? Chris Garret: [cocky] I don't see anyone else around. Do you? Mr Lacambe has sent me to tell you... camel jockeys... that if you fuck with him... he's gonna cut off your balls and stick 'em up your ass... [tastes some of there food and spits it out, washes his fingers in the main terrorist's drink] Chris Garret: You actually eat this shit...? Mobster: [angry] You're a dead man... Chris Garret: [smirking] I'm not afraid to die... are you? Mobster: [angry] No... Allah protects us... Chris Garret: [smiling almost laughing] Well, in that case... this shouldn't hurt... [slams his head into the table] Hassan: You! Fuck! Motherfuck! Chris Garret: [Hassan reaches for a pistol in the waistband of his pants, Garret blows him away with his shotgun. Hassan flys through the air and crashes through a window] Drop dead. Andre Lacombe: You've developed a sense of humor since we last met. How about self-control? Marco Luganni: When necessary. Chris Garret: Why did you agree to see me? Andre Lacombe: So that you could carry a personal message back to that garlic-breath pig. I have moved south. I will stay south. Luganni is too weak to kick me out. And should you, he, or these Iranians you mention ever come into Vancouver, I will personally write Andre Lacombe's name on all your snowy graves... with piss.