xXx

xXx

Feature on my Multan up there with you and I have to go up there with you

Director(s): Ali zafar igo
Production: Columbia Pictures
  4 wins & 14 nominations.
 
IMDB:
5.9
Metacritic:
48
Rotten Tomatoes:
48%
PG-13
Year:
2002
124
$141,134,092
Website
18,653 Views
A New Breed Of Sxxxecret Agent.

[Xander has just foiled the supposed "robbery" inside the diner he woke up in. He turns to see Gibbons clapping]

Gibbons:
Well done Mr. Cage.

Xander:
Who the hell are you?

Gibbons:
The name's Gibbons. Augustus Gibbons. You seem upset. Is there something wrong?

Xander:
What is this place?

Gibbons:
Looks like a diner.

Xander:
That's clever. You know, you almost had me going for a second? I was a little groggy at first, but then I started noticing things. Like you got a stock broker over here reading the Financial Times on a Sunday morning when the market's closed. Unlikely, but alright, I can go with that. I can even go with the stick-up man packing a cop issue Beretta. But you want to know where you blew it? With her. [points to the waitress behind the counter] My aunt was in the restaurant business all her life. There's no way a career waitress comes to work in high heels. She'd have blisters the size of pancakes before lunch. And if she ain't real, then this whole thing ain't real. That's how I know that this bozo over here [points to the bleeding 'stock broker' on the floor] wouldn't get a shot off even if we waited until St. Patrick's Day. [fires a blank round from the stock broker's shotgun at a wall clock] Because there's nothing but blanks in these guns. Oh, and no offence, but their performances were terrible.

Gibbons:
[Starts to laugh] That's good. That's very good.

Xander:
Okay, you're turn, pretty boy. What the hell is all of this?

Gibbons:
It was a test, Mr. Cage, that you aced.

Agent Polk:
[Entering] He seems to have an attitude.

Xander:
Excuse me?

Agent Polk:
[To Gibbons] Should we throw him back?

Gibbons:
Hell no, I love his attitude! Let's take this to the next level. [Starts speaking to the agents in the diner] Get on the sat-com!

Xander:
What are you talking about, what next level?

Gibbons:
I want everyone out in ten minutes!

Xander:
[Starts walking towards the exit] I don't know who you think you're playing with, I don't play this game!

Gibbons:
[looking at the trucker, who has burns from the coffee] Get Mike a doctor. We don't want him looking like me.

Xander:
I got a party to go to!

Gibbons:
[To the waitress, nodding towards Xander] Shut him up.

Xander:
And don't to forget to pay for my windo- [The waitress shoots him with a tranq dart] AH! [He falls down and pulls the dart from his chest]

Gibbons:
Why is it always the a**holes that pass the test? [sees Xander pass out]

Gibbons:
I just want you to do is meet some people and find out whatever you can about them.

Xander:
What type of people?

Gibbons:
Dangerous, dirty, tattooed, uncivilized. Your kind of people.

Xander:
Hold up. My kind of people would say. "Kiss my ass, Scarface!"

Gibbons:
See, this is usually the point where I'd take out my gun, press it to your temple and ask you very politely to do what I want. But you're not the type who's afraid of death. So I guess this puts us in a quandary, doesn't it?

Xander:
So I guess we better call this a day, then?

Gibbons:
Not just yet. You ever watch lions at the zoo? You can always tell which ones were captured in the wild by the look in their eyes. The wildcat. See, he remembers running across the plains, the thrill of the hunt. Four hundred pounds of killing fury locked in a box. But after a while their eyes start to glaze over, and you can tell their soul has died. The same thing happens to a man. Leavenworth Federal Penitentiary is no joke. They'll take a wild man like you and throw him in solitary just for the fun of it. No more mountains to board, no more oceans to surf. Just a six by eight cell with no windows, and only a bucket to sh*t in. But you can avoid all that by doing this one small favor for me.

Xander:
You don't have sh*t on me!

Gibbons:
I notice you have three X's tattooed on the back of your neck. I think that's rather appropriate seeing as you're looking at three strikes. Grand theft auto, reckless endangerment, and that little bridge stunt of yours? Makes you three-time loser. Maybe you should call yourself "Triple X". But if you do want, I'll make all your recent criminal transgressions go away and let you get back to that pathetic excuse of a life.

Xander:
You think maybe I should be like you? Get all strut up with stars and stripes? I bet that flag is a real comfort every time you look in the mirror.

Gibbons:
A small price I paid for putting foot to ass for my country. So, what's it going to be, Triple X? You want to get on a plane? Or is "Kiss my ass, Scarface" your final answer?


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