When you're dealing with a store like this, they're insured up the ass. They're not supposed to give you any resistance whatsoever. If you get a customer or an employee who thinks he's Charles Bronson, take the butt of your gun and smash their nose in. Drops 'em right to the floor. Everyone jumps, he falls down, screaming, blood squirts out his nose. Freaks everybody out. Nobody says fuckin' shit after that. You might get some bitch talk shit to ya. But give her a look, like you're gonna smash her in the face next. Watch her shut the fuck up. Now if it's a manager, that's a different story. The managers know better than to fuck around. So if one's givin' you static, he probably think he's a real cowboy. So what you gotta do is break that son-of-a-bitch in two. If you wanna know something and he won't tell you, cut off one of his fingers. The little one. Then you tell 'im his thumb's next. After that he'll tell ya if he wears ladies underwear. I'm hungry, let's get a taco.
Mr. White, em Reservoir Dogs, ou Cães de Aluguel, de Quentin Tarantino. Para ler o roteiro completo no original passe aqui.
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