Snatch2000

Sol:
I don't want a fuss, and I don't want to put a bullet in your face, but unless you give me exactly what I want, there will be f***ing murders.

Bullet Tooth Tony:
[to Tyrone] What's your name?

Vinny:
Shoot him.

Bullet Tooth Tony:
[mocking] Ooh.

[Sol attempts to pistol-whip Tony; Tony catches his hand and grips it tightly as Vinny draws another gun]

Vinny:
Let … go … of … the … gun!

[Tony releases Sol]

Bullet Tooth Tony:
So, you're obviously the big dick. And that, on either side of you, are your balls. There are two types of balls. There are big, brave balls, and there are little mincey f*ggot balls.

Vinny:
These are your last words, so make them a prayer.

Bullet Tooth Tony:
Now, d*cks have drive and clarity of vision, but they're not clever. They smell p*ssy, and they want a piece of the action. And you thought you smelled some good old p*ssy, and have brought your two small mincey f*ggot balls along for a good old time. But you've got your parties muddled up. There's no p*ssy here, just a dose that'll make you wish you were born a woman. Like a prick, you're having second thoughts. You're shrinking, and your two little balls are shrinking with you. And the fact that you've got "Replica" written down the side of your guns, and the fact that I've got "Desert Eagle point-five-oh" written on the side of mine, should precipitate your balls into shrinking, along with your presence. Now … f*** off.

[Sips his stout as Vinny, Sol, and Tyrone dejectedly slink away]