He's bad to the bone, ain't you, Tyrone? Of course I am.
Tyrone'll drive for us. He's done a rally driving course.
Of course I have.
I don't want that dog dribbling on my seats.
Your seats?
Tyrone, this is a stolen car, mate.
While I'm at the wheel, it's my car...
...so stop that dog dribbling on my seats. All right?
I can't believe you found it. Where'd it go?
It went back to the gyppos.
Shut up. And how could it find them?
Well, I don't know. I'm not a dog, Sol.
Ask him.
It's like he's a fucking homing beacon.
Steady on the brakes.
I thought you said he could drive, Sol.
Don't worry about me. Just worry about that dog on my seats.
All right?
What?
You said he was a getaway driver. What the fuck can he get away from?
Don't worry about Tyrone. He can move when he has to.
Worry about getting us a gun.
What's that?
This is a shotgun, Sol.
It's a fucking anti-aircraft gun, Vincent.
I want to raise pulses, don't I? - You'll raise hell, never mind pulses.
That does not look like a bookies.
Why'd we stop here? What's the matter with that space over there?
It's too tight.
Too tight?
You could land a jumbo-fucking-jet in there.
Leave him alone. He's a natural. Ain't you, Tyrone?
Of course I am.
A natural fucking idiot. Tyrone, what've you done?
Yeah, Tyrone, what have you done?
Look, you hassle me, you see what happens.
It's all right. No, don't move it now.
People'll see the damage. Why'd you do that?
I didn't see it.
It's a four-ton truck. It's not like it's a packet of fucking peanuts.
It was at a funny angle.
It's behind you, Tyrone.
Whenever you reverse, things come from behind you.
Control that dog as well.
Get that dog off him. - Get it off me.
Give me that squeaky toy. It shut him up last time.
Don't snatch.
He can't swallow the whole ball.
Yeah.
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