Ery-chan (erychan86) wrote,

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Resrvoir Dogs. Mr Orange Picspam

Last night I was bored so I decided to watch a DVD, I have loads of movies to watch but I didn't want somethig new. I wanted, you know, to be *safe* so I was holding in my hands two DVDs about two of my favourite movies: Moulin Rouge and Reservoir Dogs... But was a really hard choice to made, so, I remembered that few days ago I saw Skellig, with Tim Roth and John Simm and I decided to put into the player Reservoir Dogs for hear Tim's voice with his american accent and cos I wanted to hear one line in particular "I 'm gonna die. I'm gonna die!" at the beginning... (it was my phone ring years ago... I know... creepy XD) so I put the DVD and at the end I saw the whole movie... Today (or better yesterday are 2 am here) I was at home, and, for the first time in I don't know how long, my mum was at home too and she was bored so I sayd "Let's watch something in DVD" and what movie she wanted to see again? Yep: Reservoir Dogs. And I was happy about that! Did I mention that I love that movie?
So I decided to made a picspam cos this movie deserve it and cos I'm addicted! This is about Tim - Mr. Orange - Roth cos, you know, I love Tim and not just because I'm obsessed with english guys!

Note: NC17 for language :)

Mr. Brown: "Like A Virgin" is not about some sensitive girl who meets a nice fella. That's what "True Blue" is about. No argument about that.
Mr. Orange: Which one is "True Blue"?
Mr. Pink: It was a big-ass hit for Madonna.
Mr. Orange: I don't even follow that top-of-the-pops shit, and I've heard of "True Blue." I didn't say I ain't heard of it. All I asked is, how's it go? Excuse me for not being the world's biggest Madonna fan.

Mr. Orange: I'm gonna die. I'm gonna die!
Mr. White: Just hold on, buddy boy!
Mr. Orange: I'm gonna die! I'm sorry!
Mr. White: Give me your hand.
Mr. Orange: I can't believe she killed me, man! Who'd have fuckin' thought that?
Mr. White: Hey, just cancel that shit right now! You're hurt. You're hurt real fuckin' bad, but you ain't dying!
Mr. Orange: All this blood's scarin' the shit out of me, Larry! I'm gonna die! I know it!
Mr. White: Excuse me, I didn't realize you had a degree in medicine. Are you a doctor? Are you a doctor? Answer me, please! Are you a doctor?
Mr. Orange: No, I'm not. I'm not.
Mr. White: So you admit you don't know what you're talkin' about. If you're through givin' me your amateur opinion, lie back and listen. I'm takin' you back to the rendezvous, Joe's gonna get you a doctor... the doctor's gonna fix you up and you're gonna be okay. Now say it! You're gonna be okay! Say it! You're gonna be okay! Say the goddamn words! You're gonna be okay!
Mr. Orange: Oh, God!
Mr. White: Say the goddamn fuckin' words! Say it!
Mr. Orange: Okay, Larry.
Mr. White: Correct! Correct!
Mr. Orange: I'm okay.

Mr. White: We're in a warehouse. Who's a tough guy? Who's a tough guy? Come on, who's a tough guy? Who's a tough guy?
Mr. Orange: I am the tough guy
Mr. White: You're a tough guy. You're a fuckin' tough guy. We're in a warehouse. Look where we are. We made it. We made it.

Mr. White: We're gonna sit and wait for Joe. Who are we waitin' for?
Mr. Orange: Joe. Larry, I'm fucking scared, man. Would you please hold me?
Mr. White: Yeah, sure. You go ahead and be scared. You've been brave enough for one day.

Mr. Orange: Am I hurt? I'm hurt bad, Larry.
Mr. White: It's not good, no.
Mr. Orange: Hey, Larry... bless your heart for what you're tryin' to do. I was panicking for a minute back there. But I got my senses back now. The situation is, I'm shot in the belly. Without medical attention, I'm gonna die.
Mr. White: I can't take you to a hospital.
Mr. Orange: Fuck jail, man! You don't have to take me in. Just drive me up to the front, man. Just drop me on the sidewalk. I'll take care of myself. I won't tell 'em anything, man. I won't tell 'em anything. I swear to fucking God, man. Just look in my eyes, Larry. Look in my eyes. I won't tell them anything.

Mr. Orange: Larry, don't leave me.
Mr. White: I'll be right in the other room, okay? I'll be right there lookin' at ya. I'm right here lookin' at you, okay? I'm right over there.
Mr. Orange: Larry... I'm gonna fucking die. Larry.

Mr. Orange: Hey, you. What's your name?
Marvin: Marvin.
Mr. Orange: Marvin what?
Marvin: Marvin Nash.
Mr. Orange: Listen to me, Marvin. I'm a-- Listen to me, Marvin Nash. I'm a cop.
Marvin: Yeah, I know.
Mr. Orange: You do?
Marvin: Yeah. Your name's Freddy somethin'.
Mr. Orange: Newendyke. Freddy Newendyke.
Marvin: Frankie Ferchetti... introduced us about five months ago.
Mr. Orange: I don't remember that at all.
Marvin: Ido.

Marvin: Freddy. How do I look?
Mr. Orange: What? I don't know what to tell you, Marvin.
Marvin: That fuck. That sick fuck! That fuckin' bastard!

Mr. Orange: Marvin, I need you to hold on. There's cops waiting to move a block away.
Marvin: What the fuck are they waiting for? This fuckin' guy, he slashes my face... and cuts my fuckin' ear off! I'm fuckin' deformed!
Mr. Orange: Fuck you! I'm fuckin' dyin' here! I'm fuckin' dyin'!

Cop: How was Long Beach Mike's referral?
Mr. Orange: Perfect. His backing me up went a long way. I told them I played poker with him. Nice Guy checked it out and said it was A-okay. Said I was a good thief, I didn't rattle... and that I was ready to move. He's a good guy. I wouldn't be inside without him.
Cop: Long Beach Mike is not your friend. Long Beach Mike is a fucking scumbag. He's selling out his friends. That's how nice he fuckin' is. I'll take care of his ass... but you get that scumbag out of mind and take care of business.
Mr. Orange: Gone.
Cop: Use the commode story?

Mr. Orange: What's the commode story?
Cop: It's a scene. Memorize it.
Mr. Orange: A what?
Cop: Undercover cops gotta be Brando. To do this job you gotta be a great actor, naturalistic. You gotta be naturalistic as hell. If you're a bad actor, that's bullshit in this job.
Mr. Orange: What is this?
Cop: That's an amusing anecdote about a drug deal. Something funny that happened to you while you were doing a job.
Mr. Orange: I gotta memorize all this? There's four pages of this shit.

Mr. Orange: This is during the L.A. marijuana drought, 1986. I still had a connection, which was insane 'cause... you couldn't get any weed anywhere then. Anyway, I had a connection with this hippie chick in Santa Cruz... and all my friends knew it. They call me and say, "Hey, Freddy" fuck...say, "Hey, dude. You gettin' some? Can you get some for me too?" They knew I still smoked, so they asked me to buy some for them. It got to be-- Every time I bought some weed I was buyin' for four or five people. Finally I said, "fuck this shit. I'm makin' this bitch rich." She didn't even have to meet these people. I was doing all the work. That got to be a pain in the ass, people calling all the time. I couldn't even rent a tape without six fuckin' interruptions. "When's the next time you're gettin' some?" "Motherfucker, I'm tryin' to watch The Lost Boys. When I get some, I'll call you." Then these rink-a-dink potheads come by. They're my friends and everything, but still-- I got it laid out in 60-dollar bags, they don't want 60 dollars worth. They want ten dollars' worth, and breaking it up wasn't easy. I don't even know what ten dollars' worth looks like. This was a very weird situation.

Mr. Orange: Remember back in '86... there was a major fuckin' drought. Nobody had anything. People were livin' on resin, smokin' the wood in their pipes. This chick had a bunch and she's beggin' me to sell it. So I told her I wasn't gonna be Joe the pot man anymore... but I would take a little bit and sell it to my close friends She agreed and we kept the same arrangement as before-- ten percent and free pot for me... if I helped her that weekend. She was sellin' a brick of weed and didn't wanna go to the buy alone. Her brother usually goes with her, but he's in County unexpectedly.
Mr. White: What for?
Mr. Orange: His traffic tickets gone to warrant. They stopped him, found warrants on him, took him to County. She doesn't wanna walk around alone
with all that weed. I don't wanna do this. I have a very bad feeling about it. She keeps asking me, asking me. Finally I said okay 'cause I'm sick of hearing it. So we go to the train station--
Eddie: Wait. You're goin' to the train station with the weed on ya?
Mr. Orange: The guy needed it right away. Anyway, we get to the train station... and we're waitin' for the guy. I'm carryin' the weed
in a carry-on bag. I gotta take a piss, so I tell her I'm goin' to the boy's room. So I walk into the men's room and who's standing there? Four Los Angeles County sheriffs and a German shepherd.

Eddie: Hey! Showtime! Grab your jacket. I'm parked outside.
Mr. Orange: I'll be right down.
Eddie: He'll be right down.
Mr. Orange: Don't pussy out on me now. They don't know. They don't know shit. You're not gonna get hurt. You're fuckin' Baretta. They believe every fuckin' word 'cause you're super cool.

Mr. Pink: Who played Christie Love?
Eddie: Pam Grier.
Mr. Orange: No, it wasn't Pam Grier. Pam Grier was the other one. Pam Grier did the film. Christie Love was like a Pam Grier TV show without Pam Grier.
Mr. Pink: So, who was Christie Love?
Mr. Orange: How should I know?
Mr. Pink: Great. Now I'm totally fuckin' tortured.

Mr. White: Where are you?
Mr. Orange: I stand outside and guard the door. I don't let anybody go in or out.
Mr. White: Mr. Brown.
Mr. Orange: He waits in the car. I give him the signal, he pulls up in front.
Mr. White: Mr. Blonde and Mr. Blue.
Mr. Orange: Crowd control. They handle the customers and the employees.
Mr. White: That girl's ass.
Mr. Orange: Sittin' right here on my dick.

Mr. White: Is he dead? Did he die or not? Let's go.

Mr. Orange: I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Larry. I can't believe she killed me. Who'd have fucking thought that?

Eddie: What the fuck happened?
Mr. Orange: He slashed the cop's face, cut off his ear and was gonna burn him alive.
Eddie: What? I didn't hear you.
Mr. Orange: I said... Blonde went crazy. He slashed the cop's face, cut off his ear and was gonna burn him alive.

Joe: That lump of shit's workin' with the L.A.P.D.
Mr. Orange: I don't have the slightest fucking idea... what you're talking about.
Mr. White: Joe, I don't know what you think you know, but you're wrong.
Joe: Like hell I am.
Mr. White: Trust me on this. You've made a mistake. He's a good kid.

Mr. White: I'm sorry, kid. Looks like we're gonna... do a little time.
Mr. Orange: I'm a cop. Larry... I'm sorry. I'm... so sorry. I'm a cop. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.

Isn't he sweet? I wanna hug him so badly... Awwww!
And now I can go to sleep, bye!
Tags: !movies, !picspam, people: tim roth
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