The Losers

& Clay: We find it, we paint it for a laser-targeted bomb, we get the hell out. No muss, no fuss.


& Max: Delivery will occur on schedule. Have a super day.


& Aisha: How's your steak?
    Clay: Meaty.


& Max: It's a sonic de-materializer. Better known as a snuke. For the 21st-century green terrorist. Pure destruction. No pollution.
    Wade: So who are we selling them to?
    Max: Chinese extremists, PLF, the frigging French Basques. As long as they have the right price and are willing to use it. No stockpiling, no deterrence. It's like giving a handgun to a 6-year-old, Wade. You don't know how it's gonna end... but you're pretty sure it's gonna make the papers.

---

& Wade: Another war.
    Max: Well, what do you believe in, Wade?
    Wade: I'm guessing shotguns and big titties. I also enjoy air shows and beer.
    Max: We're saving the country... doing something for the benefit of the United States of America.
    Wade: I was born in Quebec.
    Max: Okay. Then we're saving North America.


& Jensen: You know cats can make a thousand different sounds and dogs can only make ten? Cats, man. Not to be trusted.
    Pooch: Okay, do me a favor and never repeat that.


& Roque: Okay, you stay with us, but if anything smells like a trap... I get to put a bullet in your skull. Does that sound fair?
    Aisha: That sounds fun.
    Jensen: Sounds like my parents.


& Roque: Clay, where are the seatbelts, bro?
    Clay: We don't need seatbelts. The G-forces will hold you in your seat.


& Aisha: All right, easy. Go to your right now. All right, ease down, ease down, to your left. No, no, your other left. Easy, easy.


& Aisha: You know... if you two really fought... he would kill you.
    Clay: Why's that?
    Aisha: Because of the others. You care what happens to them.
    Clay: And you think that's a weakness?
    Aisha: I know it is. It's the law of the jungle.
    Clay: Well, thankfully, we're not in the jungle.
    Aisha: Yes, we are.


& Goliath Guard: Freeze!
    Jensen: Wow, this got serious... I'm warning you. I am a lethal killing machine. It was a secret government experiment. They did stuff to me. Spooky* stuff. Anal stuff. Turned me into a dangerous telekinetic. As the ancient Tibetan philosophy states: "Don't start none, won't be none."


& Jensen: It's a courier drive. Twenty-first-century bagman. Russian mob banks pioneered them. Like an electronic bearer bond.
    Pooch: Okay, all right. Say that again, but a lot slower and dumber, please.
    Jensen: Okay. Pretend you are super evil. And you want to move a ton of your ill-gotten blood money...


& Vikram: One billion dollars. This is the new price.
    Wade: One billion?
    Vikram: Cash.
    Wade: Cash is gonna be difficult.
    Vikram: Difficult? Mr. Wade, life the way you people want to live it is difficult. You want less difficult? Move to my country. Study Hinduism. Meditate. Cultivate serenity. Way less difficult. But you want to buy bombs. I'm afraid that's a more difficult way of life.


& Jensen: She's got a gun and it's pointed at my dick. Clay, it's pointed at my dick.
    Pooch: Rather it was pointed at your face?
    Jensen: I know it makes no sense, but yes.


& Jensen: What's the password?
    Roque: Let us in or I'll kill you.
    Jensen: Correct.



--Dict:
Spooky — Жуткий


On Imdb


~ Комикс, он комикс и есть.

> Главный злодей выжил. Так что, дали будэ.