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Oֵڭ̫iXmڭ̤@wĹn]We Shall Overcome^
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| iqvE֡jmPŻn]The U.S. vs. John Lennon ^ЦAM@| |
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| mĵnDie Hard |
[Hans' radio turns on]
Hans Gruber: I thought I told all of you, I want radio silence until further...
John McClane: Ooooh, I'm very sorry, Hans. I didn't get that message. Maybe you should've put it on the bulletin board. I figured since I've waxed Tony and Marco and his friend here, I figured you and Karl and Franco might be a little lonely, so I decided to give you a call.
Hans Gruber: Eh, that's... very kind of you. I assumed you are our mystery party crasher. You are most troublesome, for a security guard.
John McClane: Eeeh! Sorry, Hans, wrong guess. Would you like to go for Double Jeopardy where the scores can really change?
[Indicating cigarettes in dead man's pocket]
John McClane: Mm, these are very bad for you.
Hans Gruber: Who are you, then?
John McClane: Just a fly in the ointment, Hans. The monkey in the wrench, the pain in the ass.
Hans Gruber: Mr. Mystery Guest? Are you still there?
John McClane: Yeah, I'm still here unless you wanna open the front door for me.
Hans Gruber: No, I'm afraid not. But you have me at a loss. You know my name but who are you? Just another American who saw too many movies as a child? Another orphan of a bankrupt culture who thinks he's John Wayne? Rambo? Marshal Dillon?
John McClane: Was always kinda partial to Roy Rogers actually. I really dig those sequined shirts.
Hans Gruber: Do you really think you have a chance against us, Mr. Cowboy?
John McClane: Yippee-ki-yay, motherfucker. |
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