Prison Break, Season 2

T-Bag:
[holding a knife to Michael] What exactly is it that you want, pretty?

Michael:
[closes door] I'm turning you in.

T-Bag:
Is that it? Really? It ain't about the money? 'Cause if it is, you can tell me. Ain't nobody here but us cons.

Michael:
You can walk... or get dragged, that's up to you.

T-Bag:
No. See, when you had the gun on me, I afforded you a certain respect. But, uh, here? Well, the scales are tipped back my way. So I'm gonna spell out the present options. Either we split this money, and you can go get your legs tattooed or whatever the hell it is you want, or they're gonna find your corpse slumped over that there chair with your pants down around your ankles, 'cause it's been a long time coming, pretty.

[Michael walks over to counter, takes bottle, smashes it into weapon]

T-Bag:
Well, I got my answer.

Michael:
Whenever you're done yakking.

T-Bag:
... Bring it, bitch.