Hobo with a Shotgun

& Drake: He wants mercy from the Drake. From the Drake. And he should know better than anybody... mercy ain’t my style.

& Hobo: I AM TIRED. NEED $ FOR LAWN MOWER.

& Abby: So how many people have you killed?
    Slick: What am I? A mathematician?

& Hobo: God, Jesus God, boys. What ever happened to delicacy and finesse?

& Hobo: I thought this was a police station. Not a fucking circus... I just wanted to help. Ah!
    Chief of Police: And don’t forget you fucking piece of shit, every day is garbage day for street trash like you.

& Hobo: Pay guns! Keep the change.

& Hobo: Listen. Go home to someone who loves you. Now. And you... you’re fucked.

---

& Cop: She’s so hot, I’d eat the peanuts out of her shit.

& Abby: Come on, man, I let you sleep in my bed, tell me where you went.
    Hobo: I just wanted to buy a lawn mower.
    Abby: Wait... you wanted to buy a lawn mower?
    Hobo: Yep. After all those years living in box cars and on the streets, I thought I might start up my own business.
    Abby: That’s what we’ll do.
    Hobo: I’ve got my own slogan. You grow it, I cut it.
    Abby: You grow it, we cut it. We’ll get out of this town and go somewhere where they have nice big lawns to mow. This isn’t the only place that grass grows.

& Slick: I’m going to wash this blood off with your blood!

& Abby: You know I’m not really a schoolteacher, right? You do, right?
    Hobo: Yeah, but everybody ought to have a dream.

& Abby: You can’t solve all the world’s problems with a shotgun.
    Hobo: It’s all I know.

& Drake: Take him to the glory hole.

& Chief of Police: Okay, get rid of these fucking animals now.

& Hobo: You and me are going on a car ride to hell.
    Drake: You’re gonna miss me.
    Hobo: You’re riding shotgun.

+ on Imdb.



__ Absolutely, the-whole-head-sick trash.