Costello: I'm going to have my associate search you.
Costigan: No, no one's ****ing searching me. Searching me for what?
Costello: Contra-****ing-band. Take your shoes off.
[French slams Costigan into a chair]
Mr. French: Shoes.
Costello: [to Costigan] I knew your father.
Costigan: Yeah? You know he's dead?
Costello: Oh, sorry. How'd he go?
Costigan: He didn't complain.
Costello: Yeah, that was his problem.
Costigan: Who said he had a problem?
Costello: I just said he had a ****ing problem. There's a man who could have been anything.
Costigan: Are you trying to say he was nothing?
[French slams Costigan onto a pool table and continues his search]
Costello: I'm saying he worked at the airport. Arm.
[French directs Costigan to a pool table, making him hold out his casted arm]
Mr. French: Show me your arm. Flip it. mm-hmmm, mm-hmmm.
[French slams Costigan's arm on the table until the cast breaks, while Costigan screams in pain]
Costello: It makes me curious to see you in this neighborhood. And if I can slander my own environment, it makes me sad. This, uh, regression. Plus, I don't know if it's beyond some ****ing cop prick like Queenan to pull you out of the Staties and send you gift-wrapped to me. I just can't know. I wonder what they do in that particular department, anyway.
[Costello slams on Costigan's broken arm with Costigan's boot]
Costello: [yelling] Are you still a cop?
Costigan: [in severe pain] No!
[Costello whacks his arm again]
Costello: [yelling] Swear on your mother's grave you're still not a cop?!
Costigan: I'm not a ****ing cop!
[Costello whacks his arm again, this time re-breaking it]
Costello: [yelling] Are you going to stop doing coke deals with your jerk-off ****ing cousin?!
Costigan: Yes, yes, yes!!
Costello: Alright, alright. You're okay, you'll be alright. Get your hand taken care of.
[Costello throws down some money]
Costello: I'm sorry, but it was necessary. As for our problem with Providence - let's not cry over some spilled guineas.
Costigan: No, no one's ****ing searching me. Searching me for what?
Costello: Contra-****ing-band. Take your shoes off.
[French slams Costigan into a chair]
Mr. French: Shoes.
Costello: [to Costigan] I knew your father.
Costigan: Yeah? You know he's dead?
Costello: Oh, sorry. How'd he go?
Costigan: He didn't complain.
Costello: Yeah, that was his problem.
Costigan: Who said he had a problem?
Costello: I just said he had a ****ing problem. There's a man who could have been anything.
Costigan: Are you trying to say he was nothing?
[French slams Costigan onto a pool table and continues his search]
Costello: I'm saying he worked at the airport. Arm.
[French directs Costigan to a pool table, making him hold out his casted arm]
Mr. French: Show me your arm. Flip it. mm-hmmm, mm-hmmm.
[French slams Costigan's arm on the table until the cast breaks, while Costigan screams in pain]
Costello: It makes me curious to see you in this neighborhood. And if I can slander my own environment, it makes me sad. This, uh, regression. Plus, I don't know if it's beyond some ****ing cop prick like Queenan to pull you out of the Staties and send you gift-wrapped to me. I just can't know. I wonder what they do in that particular department, anyway.
[Costello slams on Costigan's broken arm with Costigan's boot]
Costello: [yelling] Are you still a cop?
Costigan: [in severe pain] No!
[Costello whacks his arm again]
Costello: [yelling] Swear on your mother's grave you're still not a cop?!
Costigan: I'm not a ****ing cop!
[Costello whacks his arm again, this time re-breaking it]
Costello: [yelling] Are you going to stop doing coke deals with your jerk-off ****ing cousin?!
Costigan: Yes, yes, yes!!
Costello: Alright, alright. You're okay, you'll be alright. Get your hand taken care of.
[Costello throws down some money]
Costello: I'm sorry, but it was necessary. As for our problem with Providence - let's not cry over some spilled guineas.
Costello : I'm going to have my associate search you.
Costigan : No, no one's ****ing searching me. Searching me for what?
Costello : Contra-****ing-band. Take your shoes off.
[French slams Costigan into a chair]
Mr. French : Shoes.
Costello : [to Costigan] I knew your father.
Costigan : Yeah? You know he's dead?
Costello : Oh, sorry. How'd he go?
Costigan : He didn't complain.
Costello : Yeah, that was his problem.
Costigan : Who said he had a problem?
Costello : I just said he had a ****ing problem. There's a man who could have been anything.
Costigan : Are you trying to say he was nothing?
[French slams Costigan onto a pool table and continues his search]
Costello : I'm saying he worked at the airport. Arm.
[French directs Costigan to a pool table, making him hold out his casted arm]
Mr. French : Show me your arm. Flip it. mm-hmmm, mm-hmmm.
[French slams Costigan's arm on the table until the cast breaks, while Costigan screams in pain]
Costello : It makes me curious to see you in this neighborhood. And if I can slander my own environment, it makes me sad. This, uh, regression. Plus, I don't know if it's beyond some ****ing cop prick like Queenan to pull you out of the Staties and send you gift-wrapped to me. I just can't know. I wonder what they do in that particular department, anyway.
[Costello slams on Costigan's broken arm with Costigan's boot]
Costello : [yelling] Are you still a cop?
Costigan : [in severe pain] No!
[Costello whacks his arm again]
Costello : [yelling] Swear on your mother's grave you're still not a cop?!
Costigan : I'm not a ****ing cop!
[Costello whacks his arm again, this time re-breaking it]
Costello : [yelling] Are you going to stop doing coke deals with your jerk-off ****ing cousin?!
Costigan : Yes, yes, yes!!
Costello : Alright, alright. You're okay, you'll be alright. Get your hand taken care of.
[Costello throws down some money]
Costello : I'm sorry, but it was necessary. As for our problem with Providence - let's not cry over some spilled guineas.
http://www.moviequotedb.com/movies/departed-the/quote_6474.html