(Kincaid's peptalk to Bryce...)
Darius Kincaid: Now repeat after me. I'm unlicensed.
Michael Bryce: I'm unlicensed, and that's terrible.
(Kincaid hits him)
Darius Kincaid: Louder!
Michael Bryce: I'm unlicensed and I don't give a...!
Darius Kincaid: Now let's go do what we do and blow some things up.
Darius Kincaid: I'll do my thing. You know when I want some sh*t to pop, it pops. Like that shot through that tittie-small window on Kurosawa's plane.
Michael Bryce: That's enough. Okay, that's enough out of you.
Darius Kincaid: Show me the face you made when that sh*t went down.
Michael Bryce: That still stings.
Darius Kincaid: I know you wasn't expecting that sh*t to happen.
Michael Bryce: Yeah, I was expecting you to blow my client's head off.
Darius Kincaid: Did you have that Home Alone face thingy, like...?
Darius Kincaid: You're welcome.
Michael Bryce: For what?
Darius Kincaid: I got you a front row seat to the Roussel show, and I got you that all-access backstage pass to that a$$ you've been wanting so bad.
Michael Bryce: You did what?
Darius Kincaid: You jumped out of the car, I gave her the 411 on you.
Michael Bryce: I didn't jump out of the... I went through the f**king windshield.
Darius Kincaid: Oh, semantics.
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