— I just want to know one thing. What kind of fucking drugs are you on?
— What?
— I want to know what kind of «fucking drugs» you were on to make you think you could bring fucking smack into my house!
— That briefcase was locked, Case.
— Yeah? Sue me!
— That wasn't very trusting of you to go through my shit.
— This ain't exactly me borrowing your trading cards here, Beave. You brought shit into my house! Into my home! Which I invited you into as my fucking guest! You know what they did in ancient Rome when a visitor violated somebody's hospitality? They cut off his dick and they nailed it to the fucking gate!