“Son of a fucking bitch!”
“Calm down.”
“Calm down? You want me to fucking calm down?”
“That’s what I said, wasn’t it?”
“Sure. Sure, Miller, I’ll calm down. I’ll just take a deep breath, do some yoga. Maybe listen to some smooth fucking jazz.”
“Stop pacing.”
“What the fuck does it matter to you if I pace?”
“I can’t think while you’re pacing.”
“No, shit-for-brains, you can’t think period! That’s why you just shot a fucking priest.”
“Collateral damage. It’s the cost of doing business.”
“You’re a psychopath.”
“I think it’s called antisocial personality disorder these days.”
“Was that a siren? I think I just heard a fucking siren.”
“Calm down.”
“QUIT TELLING ME TO DO THAT!”
“We’re going to get through this, Beck. We always do.”
“Fuck you.”
“What are you doing?”
“What’s it look like I’m doing?”
“You can’t smoke in here.”
“Why the fuck not?”
“We’re in a church.”