Категория: Игра

Don't blame Vicky.

I don't. If there's one thing I taught her, it was to play all sides. She's more like me than I ever imagined. But I am curious. What did you give her?

A little respect, Stan. Something you should've given me.

What good would that do? Where would it even go but to the bottomless, gaping pit of insecurity you call a soul?

You called him?

I'm sorry, Petit Hughie. It's not a game now. We need a real captain.

Frenchie's right. This is a fucking mess, son. We got a Supe terrorist, Raynor's blown her canister, and we're the most wanted cunts in the country. But don't you worry. Daddy's home.

We have to save them.

For fuck's sakes, Hughie, we don't have time for this shit right now, okay? Now, get in the fucking car.

Then what? Becca comes back from the dead? Robin, too? This is never gonna stop. It's just gonna be more blood and awfulness.

That's the fucking game. If you don't like to play, why did you join the fucking team?

Don't play with your food.

I want you to remember something that's very important. You won, not by playing the game Harlan's way, but yours.

There's so much of me in that kid. Confident. Stupid. I don't know... protected. Playing life like a game without consequences. Until you can't tell the difference between a stage prop and a real knife.

The game is afoot. Eh, Watson?

I love to play games. I've beaten the best of 'em.

Oh, this is a very different game, that I can assure you. There's something much greater at work here.

Are we gonna die?

Nobody dies on my watch.

I wasted my life playing video games and we're gonna die!

I know this world is just a game, but this place, these people, that's all I have.

You're all hard work and deadlines, and I'm all snowballs and fun times.

Don't threaten me, boy. I'm not the enemy.

I'm not so sure. I won't play this game anymore. I quit.

The point of the game is to get the ball in the hole.

Point of a woman is to shut the fuck up, Dana.

I understand you're getting out.

Getting out. Getting out of what? Bed? My head? The closet? Don't flirt with me, Dry Eye. I'm a busy man.

I hear you're getting out of the game. And I would like you to consider an offer.

Look, I'm going to stop you right there, so you don't waste any more of your precious breath, young man. This is not a discussion for the two of us. I am not for sale. And even if I was, you're several zeros short.

Nobody smart plays fair.