MichaelOrme/Profane · Datasets at Hugging Face

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Let me ask you a question. Just a little one that's been gnawing at me for years.	Yeah?
Yeah?	On the bridge. How did you know that Tommy had your dog? That was no fucking hunch.
On the bridge. How did you know that Tommy had your dog? That was no fucking hunch.	Do you remember when I was a kid and I had those blackouts?
You know how spiritual he's gotten ever since he saved Mrs. Halpern and Katie.	He saved Mrs. Halpern? Please, the twisted fuck.
I was just somewhere else -- how did I get here?	Quit acting like some retard or I'll call your mother and tell her what a naughty little shit you've been.
Quit acting like some retard or I'll call your mother and tell her what a naughty little shit you've been.	Kayleigh? What happened?
Easy does it, Evan! Don't be a bad boy or I'll tell mommy you were naughty.	And I'll tell the Child Protective Services about your kiddie porn endeavors. One step closer and I'll shove this up your ass!
I'm not sure. I might have gotten some stories mixed up. Did Pavlov condition his dogs to lick his nuts?	Typical psych major. A complete wise ass. And how's your project coming? Still planning to change the way we humble scientists view memory assimilation?
Typical psych major. A complete wise ass. And how's your project coming? Still planning to change the way we humble scientists view memory assimilation?	Hey, I got no choice.
Freeze! No "worm-boy". No "Mr. Worm," and no "Worm-Master-General!" Once you get a nickname like that you can't shake it. And I don't want everyone thinking I've got tapeworms coming out of my ass or something, okay?	Deal. Now read me something.
Leave us alone you sick fuck!	Get this "us" shit. As if I was gonna lay a hand on my own sister. You've done nicely for yourself, Evan. Nice friends, nice life, not to mention you're fucking my sister. Not a bad piece of ass if I say so myself.
What did I say about mentioning that bitch?	Where the hell are you taking us anyway? Just blow something up already.
Where the hell are you taking us anyway? Just blow something up already.	Just blow something up? Are you nuts? There's an art to mass destruction. Would you just paint the Mona Lisa? No. Besides, we're here already.
Here you go, buddy.	What? No frigging way, man. I'm not touching that thing.
What? No frigging way, man. I'm not touching that thing.	The hell you aren't. Anyone of us does it, you'll puss out and narc for sure.
The hell you aren't. Anyone of us does it, you'll puss out and narc for sure.	Ain't gonna work this time, buddy. Look how small that fuse is! I'll get killed.
The bourbon. The news about Ugarte upset me very much.	You're a fat hypocrite. You don't feel any sorrier for Ugarte than I do.
Good morning.	Signor Ferrari is the fat gent at the table.
Get up.	Feels so good to lie here.
Feels so good to lie here.	Get up, damn you.
No more water, you said.	Take it.
Take it.	No.
No.	Take it, damn it.
Take it, damn it.	No.
No.	Wilson, do you believe this? Take the damn water.
You're beautiful. Marry me.	You idiot, if he dives, he'll capsize the raft.
What are you doing?	Can't kill another one. Can't. Can't kill my friends anymore.
Can't kill another one. Can't. Can't kill my friends anymore.	You fucking bleeding heart, you kill or you die.
You fucking bleeding heart, you kill or you die.	Why do they have to die for me?
Why do they have to die for me?	They'd eat you if they could. They're laughing at you. Listen.
I float. You sink. End of story.	I'm serious. I'm always going on about me, me, me. Enough about me. Your turn.
I'm serious. I'm always going on about me, me, me. Enough about me. Your turn.	It's a fucking soccer ball, you idiot.
It's a fucking soccer ball, you idiot.	Shut up.
What's so damn funny?	You are.
Jesus.	Look again, asshole. It's a mirage.
What did it matter if FedEx was five minutes late one day? The next day we just start over again.	It matters. We do the best we can, that's all we have.
It matters. We do the best we can, that's all we have.	Then we've just got shit.
My last chapter's in there, and the damn machine's jammed.	Let's take a look.
Chuck.	What do you want me to say? That I thought I'd done a great job but it all turned to shit? That I might as well have gone sailing for all the good I did?
What do you want me to say? That I thought I'd done a great job but it all turned to shit? That I might as well have gone sailing for all the good I did?	Yeah, tell me. Tell me all of it.
I checked the weather, you had the jet stream, you could have made it up.	But I might not have.
But I might not have.	Jesus. I got it working... You have no idea how hard it was... They're finally a team...
Jesus. I got it working... You have no idea how hard it was... They're finally a team...	I'm touched.
I'm touched.	You fucked us over.
You fucked us over.	The point of FedEx, as I understand it, is to make the damn connection.
The point of FedEx, as I understand it, is to make the damn connection.	I was making a point.
I was making a point.	What? Let Paris hold its plane? Let Memphis take care of it? Let somebody down the line clean up your mess?
What? Let Paris hold its plane? Let Memphis take care of it? Let somebody down the line clean up your mess?	Every person counts, every package counts, that's my point.
Every person counts, every package counts, that's my point.	You know what your problem is? You just see the packages in front of you. You don't see the big picture.
You know what your problem is? You just see the packages in front of you. You don't see the big picture.	Baloney. I do see the damn "big picture."
I beat the odds!	You beat 'em to shit, pal! Jesus!
Cool ropes.	I braided them.
I braided them.	Must have taken a hell of a long time.
Must have taken a hell of a long time.	Time I had lots of.
When I first showed up, I thought you'd lost your fucking marbles.	I never thought it would end. Then it did. It was so great to be saved, I couldn't stop laughing.
Wait... wait! Are you sure?	We've got to keep her away from that bastard!
I think you been stayin' up too late at night, Homer.	You're actually having sex with your own little girl? Is that possible?
You're actually having sex with your own little girl? Is that possible?	Ain't nobody havin' sex with my little girl, Homer--that's somethin' a father knows.
Ain't nobody havin' sex with my little girl, Homer--that's somethin' a father knows.	You're lying. How can you... with your own daughter!
Fuzzy is not uncommon. I tell you, there's something about the premature babies of alcoholic mothers. They seem susceptible to every damn thing that comes along.	I haven't read that.
I haven't read that.	I haven't, either. But you will. The morons who write the books should do a little research here.
I haven't, either. But you will. The morons who write the books should do a little research here.	But isn't Fuzzy just... well, underdeveloped?
But isn't Fuzzy just... well, underdeveloped?	When doesn't he have bronchitis? I wouldn't call his bronchial infections "underdeveloped." Would you?
We should drown that damn Jack in the vat!	Now, now, darlin'... Jack just needs to know what business he's in.
Now, now, darlin'... Jack just needs to know what business he's in.	Yeah, you really showed him, Daddy-- you just about cut your own hand off, and all you cut off him was his clothes!
Yeah, you really showed him, Daddy-- you just about cut your own hand off, and all you cut off him was his clothes!	You oughta know you don't go to jail for cuttin' a guy's clothes. Ain't that right, Homer?
Here's where a little research comes in handy. Corporate banks give out VP titles like calendars. It's a small lie, but now we're sure he's playing.	Maybe you can help us understand what's so hard about getting a corporate loan.
Maybe you can help us understand what's so hard about getting a corporate loan.	Well, typically speaking, they're not. As long as you can demonstrate --
Well, typically speaking, they're not. As long as you can demonstrate --	A capacity for gross fund recovery. Yeah, we got that part.
A capacity for gross fund recovery. Yeah, we got that part.	That's right. And tech firms... They 'tend to scare people off.
That's right. And tech firms... They 'tend to scare people off.	They scare people off because most people lack vision. Vision and balls. Present company excluded of course.
They scare people off because most people lack vision. Vision and balls. Present company excluded of course.	Banks need to know how they're going to get their money back.
Banks need to know how they're going to get their money back.	We know exactly how we're going to make the money back. There in lies the Catch-22
We know exactly how we're going to make the money back. There in lies the Catch-22	I don't follow.
Hey, Jake... When am I gonna get to play the Inside?	Gordo plays the inside. You're the Shill.
Gordo plays the inside. You're the Shill.	Yeah, but come on... All I get to do is cry and get insulted.
Yeah, but come on... All I get to do is cry and get insulted.	What are you talking about? You should get a fucking Academy Award for the Shill work you do. We got it down cold, Al. You don't want to jinx it by changing something up, do you?
What are you talking about? You should get a fucking Academy Award for the Shill work you do. We got it down cold, Al. You don't want to jinx it by changing something up, do you?	I'm gonna go get eggrolls. Anyone want eggrolls?
He's just as crooked as the next guy. You'd think he'd have more important things to do with tax payer dollars.	Cue the fucking violins. Come on... It's getting cold.
Thanks. Did you know you shouldn't light three cigarettes with a match?	Back in WWI or WWII, one of the WW's, if you took the time to light three cigarettes with one match, some Nazi would be able to figure out where you were. Then, well... It was the last cigarette you and your two buddies ever had. So three on a match is bad luck.
Back in WWI or WWII, one of the WW's, if you took the time to light three cigarettes with one match, some Nazi would be able to figure out where you were. Then, well... It was the last cigarette you and your two buddies ever had. So three on a match is bad luck.	You're a superstitious fucker.
You're a superstitious fucker.	Luck's a funny thing. Especially the bad.
Luck's a funny thing. Especially the bad.	Like what?
Like what?	Having a gun pointed at you for one. It's not like breaking a mirror bad luck, but it's bad. Three on a match, black cats... Believe it. Believe it all.
She had you tempting fate.	My father used to play the same fucking lotto numbers with these other guys in the pharmacy. The same numbers everyday for sixteen years. One day he gets pissed off, tells them he's out and plays his own numbers. They hit the Lucky Seven for one point two million.
Alright... Turn around. She doesn't get shit, unless I get that money. Where is it?	Probably safe in the hands of the Federal Government.
Currently, the King Pin is a very large-type pole stuck up our asses.	Mob?
Mob?	Independent. Same shit, just independent. They call him the King Pin because he looks like that guy from the comic book... Big. Fat. Bald.
Independent. Same shit, just independent. They call him the King Pin because he looks like that guy from the comic book... Big. Fat. Bald.	So what? We hide, right?
So what? We hide, right?	What are you? New? Let me tell you how good this guy is. Last night, Al calls this bookie to settle up. Apparently he's been ducking him for like a month. So the guy asks him where he's got all this money all of a sudden, right? What does Al do? Does he tell him that he cashed in a fucking Bar Mitzvah bond? Does he tell him he's been giving head out back for twenty bucks a pop? No... He starts going on about this job he just pulled and how he fleeced some Wall Street asshole-type... How HE fleeced.
What are you? New? Let me tell you how good this guy is. Last night, Al calls this bookie to settle up. Apparently he's been ducking him for like a month. So the guy asks him where he's got all this money all of a sudden, right? What does Al do? Does he tell him that he cashed in a fucking Bar Mitzvah bond? Does he tell him he's been giving head out back for twenty bucks a pop? No... He starts going on about this job he just pulled and how he fleeced some Wall Street asshole-type... How HE fleeced.	You're pissed we didn't get credit?
You're pissed we didn't get credit?	No, that was the only semi-fucking smart thing he said! Except anybody that's ever met Big Al knows that the only thing he's comfortable doing alone is eating. This guys tells this guy, that guy tells some other guy, eventually it works it's way back to someone who works for the King and --
This might just be me, but that is hands down, the dumbest fucking idea I've ever heard.	People have tried this before, Jake. It's never worked. Teddy Fraiser and his crew went on vacation in Chicago for it. Last year, Mumps got pinched in L.A.
Poor bastard never knew what hit him. Jesus, I almost felt sorry for the guy.	I gotta work off some of this adrenaline. I got a line on this Pawn Shop guy over in Brooklyn. Anybody want in?
What? I can feel you looking at me.	That's a lot of cash. He came up with it pretty quick.
That's a lot of cash. He came up with it pretty quick.	Probably some investment banker or convertible-bonds-broker-dickhead. Did you see how fast he ran out of here? It's done. He's not coming back.
Probably some investment banker or convertible-bonds-broker-dickhead. Did you see how fast he ran out of here? It's done. He's not coming back.	I guess. I gotta drop a dime. Did anybody mess up the hoop?
She got one leg out from under him. Now we had to lean.	So then Miles walks straight into the Creative Director's office and says "The code's fine, the program's for shit" and throws down like a thousand pages of code on the guy's desk!
Jake --	What do I always tell you guys? Don't spend it all. Sooner or later we're going to run into some bad luck. Save some. Put it away, so when shit like this happens, you're not desperate. That's it. The gig's up.
Minus one.	You know, back in the day, grafting was considered a gentleman's racket. Good suits, good food... The Underworld of the Underworld. A grifter had to survive on his wits, his instincts... I like that. I like the idea of that. These days, things being what they are, guys like me gotta stay low. It's all take, take, take. You can't just be fucking witty about it.

Let me ask you a question. Just a little one that's been gnawing at me for years.

Yeah?

On the bridge. How did you know that Tommy had your dog? That was no fucking hunch.

Do you remember when I was a kid and I had those blackouts?

You know how spiritual he's gotten ever since he saved Mrs. Halpern and Katie.

He saved Mrs. Halpern? Please, the twisted fuck.

I was just somewhere else -- how did I get here?

Quit acting like some retard or I'll call your mother and tell her what a naughty little shit you've been.

Kayleigh? What happened?

Easy does it, Evan! Don't be a bad boy or I'll tell mommy you were naughty.

And I'll tell the Child Protective Services about your kiddie porn endeavors. One step closer and I'll shove this up your ass!

I'm not sure. I might have gotten some stories mixed up. Did Pavlov condition his dogs to lick his nuts?

Typical psych major. A complete wise ass. And how's your project coming? Still planning to change the way we humble scientists view memory assimilation?

Hey, I got no choice.

Freeze! No "worm-boy". No "Mr. Worm," and no "Worm-Master-General!" Once you get a nickname like that you can't shake it. And I don't want everyone thinking I've got tapeworms coming out of my ass or something, okay?

Deal. Now read me something.

Leave us alone you sick fuck!

Get this "us" shit. As if I was gonna lay a hand on my own sister. You've done nicely for yourself, Evan. Nice friends, nice life, not to mention you're fucking my sister. Not a bad piece of ass if I say so myself.

What did I say about mentioning that bitch?

Where the hell are you taking us anyway? Just blow something up already.

Just blow something up? Are you nuts? There's an art to mass destruction. Would you just paint the Mona Lisa? No. Besides, we're here already.

Here you go, buddy.

What? No frigging way, man. I'm not touching that thing.

The hell you aren't. Anyone of us does it, you'll puss out and narc for sure.

Ain't gonna work this time, buddy. Look how small that fuse is! I'll get killed.

The bourbon. The news about Ugarte upset me very much.

You're a fat hypocrite. You don't feel any sorrier for Ugarte than I do.

Good morning.

Signor Ferrari is the fat gent at the table.

Get up.

Feels so good to lie here.

Get up, damn you.

No more water, you said.

Take it.

No.

Take it, damn it.

No.

Wilson, do you believe this? Take the damn water.

You're beautiful. Marry me.

You idiot, if he dives, he'll capsize the raft.

What are you doing?

Can't kill another one. Can't. Can't kill my friends anymore.

You fucking bleeding heart, you kill or you die.

Why do they have to die for me?

They'd eat you if they could. They're laughing at you. Listen.

I float. You sink. End of story.

I'm serious. I'm always going on about me, me, me. Enough about me. Your turn.

It's a fucking soccer ball, you idiot.

Shut up.

What's so damn funny?

You are.

Jesus.

Look again, asshole. It's a mirage.

What did it matter if FedEx was five minutes late one day? The next day we just start over again.

It matters. We do the best we can, that's all we have.

Then we've just got shit.

My last chapter's in there, and the damn machine's jammed.

Let's take a look.

Chuck.

What do you want me to say? That I thought I'd done a great job but it all turned to shit? That I might as well have gone sailing for all the good I did?

Yeah, tell me. Tell me all of it.

I checked the weather, you had the jet stream, you could have made it up.

But I might not have.

Jesus. I got it working... You have no idea how hard it was... They're finally a team...

I'm touched.

You fucked us over.

The point of FedEx, as I understand it, is to make the damn connection.

I was making a point.

What? Let Paris hold its plane? Let Memphis take care of it? Let somebody down the line clean up your mess?

Every person counts, every package counts, that's my point.

You know what your problem is? You just see the packages in front of you. You don't see the big picture.

Baloney. I do see the damn "big picture."

I beat the odds!

You beat 'em to shit, pal! Jesus!

Cool ropes.

I braided them.

Must have taken a hell of a long time.

Time I had lots of.

When I first showed up, I thought you'd lost your fucking marbles.

I never thought it would end. Then it did. It was so great to be saved, I couldn't stop laughing.

Wait... *wait*! Are you sure?

We've got to keep her away from that bastard!

I think you been stayin' up too late at night, Homer.

You're actually having sex with your own little girl? Is that possible?

Ain't nobody havin' *sex* with my little girl, Homer--that's somethin' a father knows.

You're lying. How can you... with your own daughter!

Fuzzy is not uncommon. I tell you, there's something about the premature babies of alcoholic mothers. They seem susceptible to every damn thing that comes along.

I haven't read that.

I haven't, either. But you *will*. The morons who write the books should do a little research *here*.

But isn't Fuzzy just... well, underdeveloped?

When *doesn't* he have bronchitis? I wouldn't call his bronchial infections "underdeveloped." Would you?

We should drown that damn Jack in the vat!

Now, now, darlin'... Jack just needs to know what business he's in.

Yeah, you really showed him, Daddy-- you just about cut your own hand off, and all you cut off *him* was his clothes!

You oughta know you don't go to jail for cuttin' a guy's *clothes*. Ain't that right, Homer?

Here's where a little research comes in handy. Corporate banks give out VP titles like calendars. It's a small lie, but now we're sure he's playing.

Maybe you can help us understand what's so hard about getting a corporate loan.

Well, typically speaking, they're not. As long as you can demonstrate --

A capacity for gross fund recovery. Yeah, we got that part.

That's right. And tech firms... They 'tend to scare people off.

They scare people off because most people lack vision. Vision and balls. Present company excluded of course.

Banks need to know how they're going to get their money back.

We know exactly how we're going to make the money back. There in lies the Catch-22

I don't follow.

Hey, Jake... When am I gonna get to play the Inside?

Gordo plays the inside. You're the Shill.

Yeah, but come on... All I get to do is cry and get insulted.

What are you talking about? You should get a fucking Academy Award for the Shill work you do. We got it down cold, Al. You don't want to jinx it by changing something up, do you?

I'm gonna go get eggrolls. Anyone want eggrolls?

He's just as crooked as the next guy. You'd think he'd have more important things to do with tax payer dollars.

Cue the fucking violins. Come on... It's getting cold.

Thanks. Did you know you shouldn't light three cigarettes with a match?

Back in WWI or WWII, one of the WW's, if you took the time to light three cigarettes with one match, some Nazi would be able to figure out where you were. Then, well... It was the last cigarette you and your two buddies ever had. So three on a match is bad luck.

You're a superstitious fucker.

Luck's a funny thing. Especially the bad.

Like what?

Having a gun pointed at you for one. It's not like breaking a mirror bad luck, but it's bad. Three on a match, black cats... Believe it. Believe it all.

She had you tempting fate.

My father used to play the same fucking lotto numbers with these other guys in the pharmacy. The same numbers everyday for sixteen years. One day he gets pissed off, tells them he's out and plays his own numbers. They hit the Lucky Seven for one point two million.

Alright... Turn around. She doesn't get shit, unless I get that money. Where is it?

Probably safe in the hands of the Federal Government.

Currently, the King Pin is a very large-type pole stuck up our asses.

Mob?

Independent. Same shit, just independent. They call him the King Pin because he looks like that guy from the comic book... Big. Fat. Bald.

So what? We hide, right?

What are you? New? Let me tell you how good this guy is. Last night, Al calls this bookie to settle up. Apparently he's been ducking him for like a month. So the guy asks him where he's got all this money all of a sudden, right? What does Al do? Does he tell him that he cashed in a fucking Bar Mitzvah bond? Does he tell him he's been giving head out back for twenty bucks a pop? No... He starts going on about this job he just pulled and how he fleeced some Wall Street asshole-type... How HE fleeced.

You're pissed we didn't get credit?

No, that was the only semi-fucking smart thing he said! Except anybody that's ever met Big Al knows that the only thing he's comfortable doing alone is eating. This guys tells this guy, that guy tells some other guy, eventually it works it's way back to someone who works for the King and --

This might just be me, but that is hands down, the dumbest fucking idea I've ever heard.

People have tried this before, Jake. It's never worked. Teddy Fraiser and his crew went on vacation in Chicago for it. Last year, Mumps got pinched in L.A.

Poor bastard never knew what hit him. Jesus, I almost felt sorry for the guy.

I gotta work off some of this adrenaline. I got a line on this Pawn Shop guy over in Brooklyn. Anybody want in?

What? I can feel you looking at me.

That's a lot of cash. He came up with it pretty quick.

Probably some investment banker or convertible-bonds-broker-dickhead. Did you see how fast he ran out of here? It's done. He's not coming back.

I guess. I gotta drop a dime. Did anybody mess up the hoop?

She got one leg out from under him. Now we had to lean.

So then Miles walks straight into the Creative Director's office and says "The code's fine, the program's for shit" and throws down like a thousand pages of code on the guy's desk!

Jake --

What do I always tell you guys? Don't spend it all. Sooner or later we're going to run into some bad luck. Save some. Put it away, so when shit like this happens, you're not desperate. That's it. The gig's up.

Minus one.

You know, back in the day, grafting was considered a gentleman's racket. Good suits, good food... The Underworld of the Underworld. A grifter had to survive on his wits, his instincts... I like that. I like the idea of that. These days, things being what they are, guys like me gotta stay low. It's all take, take, take. You can't just be fucking witty about it.