Joe: So, you guys like to tell jokes, huh? Gigglin' and laughin' like a bunch of young broads sittin' in a schoolyard. Well, let me tell a joke. Four guys, sittin' in a bullpen, in San Quentin. All wondering how the fuck they got there. What should we have done, what didn't we do, who's fault is it, is it my fault, your fault, his fault, all that bullshit. Then one of them says, hey. Wait a minute. When we were planning this caper, all we did was sit around tellin' fuckin' jokes! Get the message? Boys, I don't mean to holler at ya. When this caper's over - and I'm sure it'll be a successful one - we'll get down to the Cayman Islands, hell, I'll roll and laugh with all of ya. You'll find me a different character down there. Right now, it's a matter of business.
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Joe: This man set us up.
Nice Guy Eddie: Dad, I'm sorry, but I don't know what the hell's happening.
Joe: It's all right, Eddie. I do.
Mr. White: What the fuck are you talking about?
Joe: That lump of shit's working with the L.A.P.D.
Mr. Orange: Joe, I don't have the slightest fucking idea what you're talking about.
Mr. White: Joe, I don't know what you think you know, but you're wrong.
Joe: Like hell I am.
Mr. White: Joe, trust me on this. You've made a mistake. He's a good kid. I understand. You're hot, you're super fucking pissed. We're all real emotional. But you're barking up the wrong tree. I know this man. He wouldn't do that.
Joe: You don't know jack shit! I do! The cocksucker tipped off the cops and had Mr. Brown and Mr. Blue killed.
Mr. Pink: Mr. Blue is dead?
Joe: Dead as Dillinger.
Mr. White: How do you know all this?
Joe: He was the only one I wasn't 100% on. I should have my fuckin' head examined, going on a plan like this when I wasn't 100%.
Mr. White: That's your proof?
Joe: You don't need proof when you have instinct.