Memorable quotes for
Shoot 'Em Up (2007) Más información en IMDbPro »

Mr. Hertz: My god! Do we really suck or this guy really that good?

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DQ: Who are you?
Mr. Smith: I'm a British nanny, and I'm dangerous.

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Mr. Hertz: Guns don't kill people! But they sure help.

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[repeated line]
Mr. Smith: You know what I hate?

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[last lines]
Mr. Smith: You know what I hate?
Diner Holdup Leader: Shut up and sit on this, asshole.
Diner Hood with Earring: That's right! You heard him.

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Mr. Smith: Do you know what I hate?
Baby's Mother: [in pain] No!
Mr. Smith: I hate these forty-year-old jack-holes wearing ponytails. That pony tail doesn't make you look hip, young, or cool.
[Smith shoots a ponytail henchmen in the head]

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Mr. Hertz: [answering phone just before he's about to execute Smith] I can't talk right now honey. I'm right in the middle of something.

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[first lines]
1st Killer: You're dead bitch!
[walks past Smith]
1st Killer: What the hell you looking at?

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Mr. Hertz: Bravo, Mr. Hero. Bravo.
Mr. Smith: Why are you trying to kill this woman?
[Hertz laughs]
Mr. Smith: Something funny?
Mr. Hertz: Well I was just remembering a limmerick. There once was a woman who was quite begat. She had three babies named Nat, Pat, and Tat. She said it was fun in the breeding, but found it was hell in the feeding when she saw there was no tit for Tat. You have caused me no end of trouble, but now I shall return the favor. Tit for Tat, right?

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Mr. Hertz: [after passing a dead woman with exposed breasts] Nice knockers.

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Mr. Hertz: Are you trying to tell me that some bum came to her rescue? Well well well, this is a fine mess.
Killer Shot in Behind: I won't make this mistake again. I got a piece of lead in my butt as a reminder!
Mr. Hertz: Yeah, I can appreciate that.
[Hertz shoots him in the other cheek]
Killer Shot in Behind: Aw! My ass!
Mr. Hertz: And let that be a reminder never to fail me again.

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Mr. Hertz: Do you know why a gun is better than a wife?
Man Who Rides Shotgun: Dunno.
Mr. Hertz: You can put a silencer on a gun.

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Woman in Park: Oh my god, look at this. Someone left a baby!
[woman is immediately shot in the back by Hertz]

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Mr. Hertz: Fuck me sideways.

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Mr. Smith: You want to know the difference between this luxury car and a porcupine?
DQ: I give up.
Mr. Smith: With the car, the prick's on the inside.

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Mr. Hertz: Does anyone know what a Jimmy Cagney love scene is? It's when Cagney lets the good guy live.
[lobby of henchmen laugh]
Mr. Hertz: [growing serious] And if that happens in this show, I will do a lot more than ask for my money back.

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Hertz's Driver: Of all the squats in the city, how does he know Smith's in this one? Another lucky guess?
Man Who Rides Shotgun: Naw, he doesn't guess. He sees things we don't. He was once an FBI profiler.
Mr. Hertz: Forensic behavior consultant. My god, how many times do I have to tell you guys details make all the difference in this business.
Man Who Rides Shotgun: Hey, uh, don't you think you should hang back, sir?
Mr. Hertz: The leader who stays in the rear, takes it in the rear. Besides, violence is one of the most fun things to watch.

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DQ: You are the angriest man in the world!
Mr. Smith: If I remember right, you used to like it like that.

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Mr. Smith: I hate it when parents hit their children.
Woman in Museum: Let go of my arm!
Mr. Smith: Not until you stop hitting your kid.
Woman in Museum: I will discipline my child as I see fit.
Mr. Smith: How would you like it if I spank you?
[Smith spanks the mother]
Mr. Smith: See? It doesn't feel so good, does it?

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Mr. Smith: [after making Hammerson shoot himself] Aren't guns just fucking great, Hammerson?

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Mr. Hertz: Oh yes sirey Bob, it certainly has been a pleasure. But before we part ways, tell me one thing - I am dead on about who you are, right?
Mr. Smith: Say that again?
Mr. Hertz: I said I am dead...
Mr. Smith: [interrupting him] Stop. That part of it you got right.

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Mr. Smith: [eating carrot] What's up doc?
Mr. Hertz: You wascally wabbit.

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Mr. Smith: Eat your vegetables.

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Mr. Smith: [after a shootout with several men, and shooting out letters of a neon sign so that all that's left says "FUK U."] Fuck you, ya fucking fuckers.

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Mr. Smith: [after being propelled from his car into a van and shooting all occupants inside] So much for seatbelts.

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DQ: Are you hungry?

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Pawnshop Owner: You wanna buy bullets with food stamps?
Mr. Smith: [shrugging] It's just as good as cash.

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Mr. Hertz: Oh, you have caused me no end of trouble!

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Mr. Hertz: [refering to Mr. Smith's techniques] National sports pistol champion at age 10. Recruited by the army. Sound like black ops got him and trained him.

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DQ: [buying a bulletproof vest for Baby Oliver] It's a better investment than a crib.

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Mr. Hertz: Tit for tat, Mr. Hero. Tit for tat.

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Mr. Smith: [after killing several men while at the same time having sex with DQ] Talk about shooting your load.

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Mr. Hertz: Oh my God, that is twisted! That sick son of a bitch! Oh, that sick son of a bitch suckered us again!

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Mr. Smith: [to presidential candidate Senator Rutledge] Let me give you a piece of advice. Never trust the people who stand to profit, plain and simple. They're the bad guys.

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Hammerson: You know, Hertz, people love guns because America is a land of opportunity where a poor man can become rich and a PUSSY can become a tough guy, if he's got a gun in his hand. Now, I'm hopin' you're not just a pussy with a gun in your hand.
Mr. Hertz: Oh no sir, no, no I am not. I am a tough guy with a pussy in my hand.

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Lone Man: You know we were never really trying to kill you. We only wanted to scare you into surrendering.
Mr. Smith: Well, that's one way to explain why you can't shoot straight.

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Mr. Smith: I move my finger one inch to use my turn signal. Why are these assholes so lazy they can't move their finger one fucking measly inch to drive more safely? You wanna know why?
DQ: Not particularly.
Mr. Smith: Because these rich bastards have to be callous and inconsiderate in the first place to make all that money, so when they get on the road, they can't help themselves. They've gotta be callous and inconsiderate drivers too. It's in their nature.

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Mr. Smith: Hey. Do you notice that?
DQ: Notice what?
Mr. Smith: Look.
[flicks channels on TV]
Mr. Smith: Lame-ass politician rants about gun control, he cries.
[flicks again]
Mr. Smith: Switch to this channel with this heavy metal music... he shuts up. That's so weird.

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Mr. Hertz: [refering to Mr. Smith's techniques] National sports pistol champion at age 10. Recruited by the arm. 'Sound like black ops got him and trained him.

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Mr. Smith: [shoots with the thumb-print safety Glock using a severed hand] Nothing like a good hand-job.

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Mr. Smith: [lone man walks out of bathroom stall] What were you doing in there so long?
Lone Man: [rubbing rag on his .44 magnum] Cleaning my gun.
Mr. Smith: [raises eye-brow] Really?

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DQ: [DQ is breastfeeding another man] Wait your turn, Smith, there's plenty to go around.
Mr. Smith: Not for me, thanks. I'm lactose intolerant.

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DQ: Why don't you take the baby to the police?
Mr. Smith: I can't go to the police.
DQ: Why not?
Mr. Smith: I'm the Unabomber.
DQ: They caught the Unabomber.
Mr. Smith: That's what they think.

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Mr. Smith: This is an M-24 tank. You are safe from all gunfire and most explosives.

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Hammerson: A theory is bull-noogies

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Mr. Smith: So what do you think of the 2nd Amendment now?
Coffee-Sipping Guard: Fuck you!

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Mr. Smith: You know what I really hate?
[Smith shoots Hertz in the the chest]
Mr. Smith: What I really hate, is a pussy with a gun in his hand.

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Mr. Smith: [after biting into a carrot and pointing a gun at Hertz] What's up, doc?
Mr. Hertz: Ooh, you're a wascally wabbit.
[points his gun at Smith]
Mr. Hertz: But you're not wascally enough.
Mr. Smith: Yeah? That's a six-shooter. I just counted six shots. You've blown your load.

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Mr. Hertz: Hey, who trained you? Hmm? NSA, Black Ops, CIA, the Army? Well whoever, it's seems you haven't lost your aim, champ.
Mr. Smith: If you think that's good you should see me spell my name in the snow.
Mr. Hertz: [laughs] Hey you know my boss here thinks that you're the Lone Ranger or something. But I believe I have a better idea about who you are. I found out how your wife and son where killed. My god, what a tragedy. Some guy walks into a burger joint. He starts shooting up the place. Oh my god, what a shame that your wife and son were there, eating their chicken nuggets.
[Smith is silent in shock]
Mr. Hertz: What's the matter, you don't like that story? Well then why don't you tell me one, hmm? Children's story, please. Oh, I know, tell me my favorite. Yeah, tell me the one about the baby.
Mr. Smith: Maybe later, when I put you to sleep.

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Mr. Smith: [after coming across a room full of semen samples] Watch where you step. The ice cream is melting.
DQ: What?
Mr. Smith: I thought donor sperm was your department.

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