Trout Walker:
[Trout appears, pointing a rifle at Kate] You got five seconds to tell me where you buried the lout!
Kissin' Kate Barlow:
I've been waitin' for you, Trout... [she draws her pistol and aims. Trout hesitates, but then she lowers it]
Kissin' Kate Barlow:
I ain't gonna kill you. [she throws the gun down, and Trout's wife picks it up]
Trout Walker:
Where's the loot?
Kissin' Kate Barlow:
There ain't no loot.
Trout Walker:
Don't give me that! You robbed every bank from Hell to Houston!
Linda Walker:
We saw you heading back with a shovel, Miss Katherine!
Kissin' Kate Barlow:
Linda Miller? Is that you?
Linda Walker:
I've been Linda Walker for the past thirteen years!
Trout Walker:
One!
Kissin' Kate Barlow:
Aw, Linda, you were such a good student... you must have married him for his money.
Trout Walker:
Two!
Linda Walker:
Well, it's all gone now! It dried up with the lake. Hasn't rained here since the day they killed Sam! Now you better tell him what he wants, he's a desperate man!
Trout Walker:
Three!
Kissin' Kate Barlow:
Go on, kill me.
Trout Walker:
[smiles crookedly] I ain't gonna kill you. But by the time I'm finished with you, you gonna wish you was dead.
Kissin' Kate Barlow:
[chuckles] I've been wishing I was dead for a long time.
Mrs. Weiss:
You know, let's talk about your father. Tell me about your relationship with him.
Clareece 'Precious' Jones:
I don't know much more than you do, Mrs. White.
Mrs. Weiss:
That's Mrs. "Weiss." Talk to me about the little you do know about your father. It is important, whether you know it or not.
Clareece 'Precious' Jones:
He give me his baby and my one before it, but I don't never see him...
Mrs. Weiss:
Wait, what did you say he gave you?
Clareece 'Precious' Jones:
Nothing.
Mrs. Weiss:
Wait, Clareece, you just said your father gave you something...
Clareece 'Precious' Jones:
Nothing.
Mrs. Weiss:
No, I HEARD you just say...
Clareece 'Precious' Jones:
You didn't hear shit.
Mrs. Weiss:
I heard you just say your father...
Clareece 'Precious' Jones:
You didn't hear shit like it!
Mrs. Weiss:
I don't care, honey! I need to know this!
Clareece 'Precious' Jones:
[Overlapping with Mrs. Weiss' voice] I didn't say nothing like it! Let's move ON!
Mrs. Weiss:
I need this to HELP you...
Clareece 'Precious' Jones:
[Angrily] Bitch, can we change the subject?
Mrs. Weiss:
Okay. Well, I'll see you next time then. Or maybe you'll see someone else. But you're going to have to talk to someone if you want your check, sweetie.
H.M. Tilford:
We'll make you a millionaire while you're sitting here from one minute to the next.
Plainview:
What else would I do with myself?
H.M. Tilford:
Are you asking me?
Plainview:
What else would I do with myself?
H.M. Tilford:
Take care of your son. I don't know what you would do.
Plainview:
If you were me and Standard offered to buy what you had for a million dollars, why? So, why?
H.M. Tilford:
You know why.
Plainview:
Yeah, you fellows need to scratch around in the dirt and find it like the rest of us instead of buying up someone else's hard work.
J.J. Carter:
[defensively] I've scratched around in the dirt, son.
H.M. Tilford:
Where you going to put it all? Where? Build a pipeline, make a deal with Union Oil, be my guest. But if you can't pull it off, you got an ocean of oil under your feet, with nowhere to go. Why not turn it over to us? We'll make you rich. You spend time with your boy. It's a great discovery... Now let us help you.
Plainview:
[after a long pause] Did you just tell me how to run my family?
H.M. Tilford:
It might be more important now that you've proven the field and we're offering to buy you out.
Plainview:
[stares at Tilford for a long moment] One night, I'm gonna come to you, inside of your house, wherever you're sleeping, and I'm going to cut your throat.
H.M. Tilford:
What? What are you taking about? Have you gone crazy Daniel?
Plainview:
Did you hear what I said?
H.M. Tilford:
I heard what you said, why did you say it?
Plainview:
You don't tell me about my son.
H.M. Tilford:
Why are you acting insane and threatening to cut my throat?
Plainview:
You don't tell me about my son.
H.M. Tilford:
I'm not telling you anything! I'm asking you to be reasonable, if I've offended you I apologize.
Plainview:
[leans towards him] You'll see what I can do.
Father:
Hello, Mrs. Peel, welcome back to The Ministry. Now we're going to have a talk.
Emma Peel:
About the weather, how topical!
Father:
It'll help pass the time.
Emma Peel:
Time would pass anyway if you think about it logically! But then so few do think logically, or even anti-logically. Clockwise or anti-clockwise, tick-toc, toc-tick, see-saw, Margery Daw. It amounts to the same thing! After all how do you know I'm the real Mrs Peel?
Father:
How real do you feel, Mrs. Peel?
Emma Peel:
I'll repeat the question, bypassing the weather, which, no doubt, being British, we'll return to in a moment. Do I walk like Mrs Peel, talk like Mrs Peel? Am I witty, wise, wonderful to know? Or, do I go around shooting Ministry agents, attempting to rule the world on my days off?
Father:
Now you're just playing games!
Sergeant JT Sanborn:
I'm ready to die, James.
Staff Sergeant William James:
Well, you're not gonna die out here, bro.
Sergeant JT Sanborn:
Another two inches, shrapnel zings by; slices my throat- I bleed out like a pig in the sand. Nobody'll give a shit. I mean my parents- they care- but they don't count, man. Who else? I don't even have a son.
Staff Sergeant William James:
Well, you're gonna have plenty of time for that, amigo.
Sergeant JT Sanborn:
Naw, man. I'm done. I want a son. I want a little boy, Will. I mean, how do you do it, you know? Take the risk?
Staff Sergeant William James:
I don't know. I guess I don't think about it.
Sergeant JT Sanborn:
But you realize every time you suit up, every time we go out, it's life or death. You roll the dice, and you deal with it. You recognize that don't you?
Staff Sergeant William James:
Yea... Yea, I do. But I don't know why. [sighs]
Staff Sergeant William James:
I don't know, JT. You know why I'm that way?
Sergeant JT Sanborn:
No, I don't.
