100 Miles2007

Ted:
I said, motherf***er if you want publicity, call the cops and have them circle the house, reporters will crawl all over the place like cockroaches. You'll be on TV. A star.

Miles:
That's one choice. To be popular. But that one only lasts 24 hours.

Ted:
Better plan, Einstein?

Ted:
Why Miles McManus Jr, idle minds are definitely the devil's workshop. Looks like you two made a great f***ing deal. I never hurt you in my life! What are you gonna do keep me here forever? Since you're not gonna shoot me, I'll scream for help.

Miles:
No, you won't.

Ted:
What makes you so sure?

Miles:
Your blood on my gun. I'll swell your million dollar face so bad you'll have to walk around with a paper bag on your head for the rest of your life. Your image will be gone. People will stare at you like a freak. Forever.

Ted:
We were jerks. We were. But never to you.

Miles:
No, not in front of me.

Ted:
So f***in' what if we made fun of you behind your back, huh? What the f*** do you care? You didn't hear them or about them. We didn't spread rumors, we kept them all to ourselves, private f***in' jokes. None of your business!

Miles:
You think I'm doin' this to be popular, right, Ted?

Ted:
Well, I don't think you have many reasons, no. You're a loser, and you'll die a loser. Kill me and/or f*** my face up, win the lottery, get married to Cindy f***in' Crawford, brother, you will always be a loser. Even long after you're gone. The problem is no one will remember your name or what you looked like. I guess that pretty much makes you vapor, McManus. That's how much of a waste of f***in' air you are.