Chicks, ah? They're all soft and cuddly, but you'll never get to be with one.
How is it that no man understands that every woman, whether she's 16 or 60, still has that awkward, insecure, self-conscious teenage girl inside of her?
— Ballpeen's casa at 7:00.
— Where in the fuck a nigger get a name like that?
— You seen little nigger's arm, right?
— Oh, yeah.
— That's why they call him Ballpeen. He broke Jimmy's arm... with a ten-pound ball peen hammer. Three years ago "Lester James", a.k.a. Ballpeen, was a big, stud motherfucker. Had a stable of bitches he fucked on a regular basis, but every couple weeks... he went out to get some strange. One night, Lester finds himself in this titty bar, and this knockout white girl named Raven, is just gyrating her little tits off. Well, Lester wanted her in the worst way. Even more when she told him to go fuck himself. He sprinkles a little fairy dust on her, somehow gets her to go back to his place. That was all she wrote. He "abused" this bitch. He fucked her every way you can think of and then some. Finally, he gets ready to go again, and he figures he'd "really" degrade this bitch and make her blow him. So, he pushes her head down and, bam! She bites that motherfucker's dick... clean off. Fortunately, they found it and sewed it back on. But it never worked right again. The problem is, a story like that gets around, you know how it is. So to combat this, anytime he even heard anybody talk about it, he'd use this fuckin' hammer on them. "Ballpeen" kind of stuck.
— And Jimmy?
— Over the years, this kind of shit gets out of control. So one day, Ballpeen, shows up late for a meeting and Jimmy made the mistake of asking if he'd been jerking off. Next thing you know,
Jimmy's got a broken arm.
— I mean, would you not die for love? After all, what is life if it does not have love?
— Nothing, according to you poets.
— You are... I've always believed that a woman should be intelligent enough to understand what I'm saying, but not intelligent enough to be able to form ideas or opinions of her own. You, Miss Godwin, have the chance to prove me wrong.
Albert Gibson: — What's going on? Sick? Looks like you got gut-kicked.
Harry Tasker: — It's Hel… It's Helen… It's Helen.
Albert Gibson: — It has something to do with Helen, I'm guessing. Helen…
Harry Tasker: — Helen… is having an affair.
Albert Gibson: — Welcome to the club, man!
Harry Tasker: — What did you need?
Helen Tasker: — I needed to feel alive. I just wanted to do something outrageous. And it felt really good to be needed. And to be trusted. And to be special. It's just that there's so much I wanted to do with this life and it's like I haven't done any of it. And the sand's running out of the hourglass and I wanted to be able to look back and say «See? I did that! I was reckless and I was wild and I fucking did it!».
— You do like women?
— Very much so. They're strange and sensitive. They have compassion. I have the highest respect for women.
— You're a virgin!
You know too much about some people... and not enough about others.
I'm still wondering if I want to know everything... or nothing about you.