Come one, Ed, you gots to help me out.
Kidnapping? Uh, I don't know, Riley. My grandpops would be tripping, man. Why don't you, you know, try something different, like diplomacy for change?
Man, just snatch him up, and if the nigga don't have the chain on him, get the regulatin' him, and make him tell you where it alt.
[To a tied-up child hanging by his feet from the ceiling] Now, what I want you to do is think - just think - these two grapes, is your two little itty-bitty-kiddie testicles. [He smashes the grapes with a massive sledgehammer.]
WHERE IS THE CHAIN?
[crying] I don't know, I swear to God!
Don't swear to God. I talk to God all the time and God happens to be the one who told me to torture your ass, ya lyin' stealin' motherfucker. [raising the sledgehammer to take a swing at his face] You gonna tell me where that chain is, I know that!
Ed, can I talk to you outside? Please?
[Grabbing the boy's hair] Look at my face. Look at it! I'm gonna crush your little kiddie penis with this hammer when I get back, if you don't tell me where that chain is at!
[Wailing incoherently]
Now, Ed! [Riley and Ed leave the room] That's the wrong kid, Ed! I told you to grab Butch Magnus, 5'4, 130 pounds!
Well, how was I supposed to know that was the wrong kid?
I gave you a picture, man, how hard is it to grab the right kid, Ed?
[Walking back into the room] You told me to grab a kid. I grabbed a kid. You don't like the way I do it, then do your own kidnapping. [untying the boy] You know what, that's your only freebie. You want me to kidnap anyone else, you payin' top dollar.
That's not fair, you grabbed the wrong kid!
Tough titty! [To the boy] My bad. You go ahead and leave. [As he cowers] What the fuck you lookin' all scared for, huh? I said you was free to go right? Which part of 'my bad' do you not understand? Oh, so now you wanna make this a whole big fuckin' thing, huh? Well, fuck you, then! [he lunges at the boy, to be stopped by Riley]
Woah, okay, okay, enough, man, enough!
Naw, naw, man, I'm sick of this shit, I'm tryin' to squash it, right, and this bitch-ass motherfucker still actin' like he hurt and shit. [Grabbing at the boy with every sentence] I ain't even touched this motherfucker, yet! I ain't even brushed past you yet, I ain't even make eye contact with your punk-ass! [As the boy runs away screaming] Yeah, come on over here, I'll give your bitch-ass something to cry about!
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