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'What you doing? What you doing? Oh, yeah. Good boy. Oh, yeah.' 'Who's your good boy? Who's your good boy?' 'What you doing? Oh, yeah. Oh, yeah.' 'Scratchy. Scratchy. You're'

Alright, let's take action. Garth, repeat the plan. The plan is simple: we break into the Capitol, infiltrate the government, and kidnap the Speaker of the House. This is Garth Henderson speaking. Everyone down! The FBI is on their way; it’s over. Oh, it’s over for you, double-crossers. I trusted you. You’re all scum. We’re true patriots! Wait, Steve Crenshaw? I knew it! You’ve been undercover. Yeah, and Todd still roams the office. We’re all FBI agents, if that wasn’t obvious. Come on, give it up. You’re outnumbered. I’d rather blow this place up than surrender. I trusted you all! You all make me sick. If you escape, look at yourselves in the mirror. I had you going. What do we do with all this stuff? It’s a shame to waste it.

Where's the third assassin? Show yourself. Third time's the charm, right? Not me, FBI. It’s someone else. I believe in you.

FBI. We have a warrant. Open the door. Hey, Bill, what's inside? Come on in. George, put your hands up.

Is this it? Let us in! Where are you? Come on, get in the door! Oh, your phone's going up. They're out back? Okay, they're out back.

I want to end it all right now. Stop it. Don't do it. Shoot me and you'll go to jail for life. Are you going to shoot my mom? Who's pointing the gun at me again?

Checklist: - Identify setting, actions, and sequence of moments. - Preserve key quotes that drive meaning and plot. - Track relationships and motivations (family dynamics, vigilante context). - Condense repetitive dialogue; keep unique or surprising details. - Highlight notable elements (Medal of Honor moment, “French seventy five,” pronoun usage). - Do not add interpretation or opinions; present claims as in transcript. The scene unfolds around two central figures amid danger and family history. Speaker 0 builds a closed circuit and cautions, “Very important to keep your cap shunted like this so you don't accidentally detonate your charge.” Speaker 1 counters, urging, “Don't stop. I want you to create a show. This is an announcement of revolution. The message is clear.” The tension escalates with a veiled threat: “I'll be seeing you very soon.” Then Speaker 1 pivots to a public confrontation: “for bringing justice to the vigilante group known as the French seventy five, we are here to award Stephen Lockjaw with the Medal of Honor.” A cryptic dynamic follows as Speaker 0 states, “You have to understand the will of you.” The dialogue shifts to family history and peril: “Me and mom, we used to run around and do some real bad.” “They got hurt. Now they're coming after us. I'm sorry.” “I didn't ask for this. That's just how the cards were rolled out for me.” The retort lands: “It's not cards. You don't roll cards. It's dice.” The exchange intensifies: “Dad, what is wrong with you?” “You're right.” The speaker announces a plan: “Let's go. I got a tunnel. What? What's going on? I need a weapon, man.” A resource constraint and protective impulse come through: “All you got is goddamn nunchucks here. You know, I can get a gun.” The protective motive is explicit: “I wanted to protect you from all your mom's stuff and all my stuff even though I know that's impossible.” The threatenings’ line of no return arrives: “This is the end of the line. Not for you.” A moment of uncertainty about new allies follows: “Woah. Who's this?” “Oh, they're just my friends.” The pronoun question—“Now is that a he or a she or a they?”—is answered: “It's not that hard. They, them.” The response seeks politeness: “Okay. I just wanna be polite. Yo. Say it. Say it, baby.” A brief affection is exchanged: “Love you, Bob.” “Love you too.” The closing conveyance frames a philosophy of liberty: “You know what freedom is? No fear. Just like Tom Cruise.”

Is there any chance you'd like to do an interview for our documentary? Yeah, I ain't gonna lie. We need to get out of here. Alright, let's back up. Joe, record it when it comes back. We're in a bad area, and people are looking at us with the windows down. I’m getting in front of you all. Let’s go.

"Roommate, how long have you been planning this?" "Robinson, a bit over a week, I believe." "I can get close to it, but there is a squad car parked right by it." "I think they already swept that spot, but I don't wanna chance it." "I'm worried what my old man would do if I didn't bring back grandpa's rifle." "IDEK, if it's had a serial number, but it wouldn't trace to me." "I had to leave it in a bush where I changed outfits." "Didn't have the ability or time to bring." "I might have to abandon it and hope they don't find prints." "How the f will I explain losing it to my old man?" "The feds released a photo of the rifle, and it is very unique." "I'm gonna turn myself in willingly."

Wait, what about the tiger? How did it get in there? I don’t remember. Shh, Stu, get it down. It’s a side effect of Rufe’s memory loss. Come on, do we need a musical? Don’t let anyone know this. Who are you? Quiet. Mike Tyson? Why is there a tiger in your bathroom? That was unnecessary. I’m a huge fan; when you knocked out Holmes, that was impressive. Look, we were drugged last night and have no memory of what happened.

Where's the third assassin? Show yourself! Third time's the charm, babe. Not me, FBI. It has to be someone else. I believe in you!

Look, they just keep coming! Get inside! Light them up! Get in the hole! Hurry, get in! Are you okay? That hurt! Are you okay? You got hit? I'm good. They're booked for that dude. What?

"What the fuck is this shit? I'm not giving you my serial number, dude." "I got proof that you guys are threatening to rape my mom. I got proof that you're threatening to fucking kill my family." "You guys are fucking stupid." "Well, you're some fucking spoiled faggot. Give me some fucking money. I ain't doing shit for free." "I hope there's fucking 500 more school shootings." "I'm a fucking published author, a dean list philosophy student." "I'm fucking smarter than everybody I ever fucking met. I fucking mean it." "It's a fucking conglomerate corporation. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Will fucking kill you." "Don't you fucking dare. How in the fucking fuck do I get a fucking agent on the fucking phone right fucking now?"

Hey, it's me. Where are you? Why haven't you earned anything? We weren't around. Where are you from? Where are you taking him? Young man, what's your last name? Bestarvia? Help! They're stealing people. I'm recording all of them! Why aren't you going to help? Try it.

"drop what you're doing. Look under my keyboard." "I had the opportunity to take out Charlie Kirk, and I'm going to take it." "You're joking." "I had planned to grab my rifle from my drop point shortly after, but most of that side of town got locked down." "If I am able to grab my rifle unseen, I will have left no evidence." "I might have to abandon it and hope they don't find prints." "Remember how I was engraving bullets?" "The feds released a photo of the rifle, and it is very unique." "I'm gonna turn myself in willingly." "Robinson, don't talk to the media, please. Don't take any interviews or make any comments. If any police ask you questions, ask for a lawyer and stay silent."

"Open the door. Open the door. Get your hands up and come outside. Come outside. Everybody in the house needs to come outside." "No. Get your hands up."

The scene centers on a tense, improvisational act that mixes technical danger with the formation of a rebellious mission. Speaker 0 is shown building a closed circuit, insisting on keeping a cap shunted “so you don’t accidentally detonate your charge,” and pressing to “create a show,” framing the moment as “an announcement of revolution. The message is clear.” Speaker 1 responds with a chilling promise: “I’ll be seeing you very soon.” The conversation then pivots to a ceremonial claim: “for bringing justice to the vigilante group known as the French seventy five, we are here to award Steven Lockjaw with the medal of honor.” The dialogue hints at love and loyalty with the line “You have to understand who will love you.” A personal vignette emerges: Speaker 0 recalls, “Me and mom used to run around and do some real bad / They got hurt. Now they're coming after us. I'm sorry.” The exchange reveals a sense of fatalism, as Speaker 0 asserts, “I didn't ask for this. That's just how the cards were rolled out for me,” only to be corrected by the other voice: “It's not cards. You don't roll cards. It's dice.” A moment of familial friction follows: “Dad, what is wrong with you? You're right.” They prepare to move on with “Let's go.” The scene shifts to a tunnel-like tension: “Tunnel. What? What's going on?” and a practical but desperate plea for weaponry: “I need a weapon, man. All you got is goddamn nunchucks here. You know where I can get a gun?” The dialogue then reflects a concern to protect “you from all your mom's stuff, from all my stuff, even though I know that's impossible.” A stark line marks a turning point: “This is the end of the line.” “Not for you.” A new character arrives: “Woah. Who's this?” They explain, “Oh, they're just my friends,” and dialogue turns to pronouns: “Now is that a he or a she or a they? It's not that hard. They, them. Okay.” A brief courtesy follows: “I just wanna be polite.” Then an intimate moment: “Yo. Say it. Say it, baby.” Endearments are exchanged: “Love you, Bob. Love you too.” The closing vibe asserts a philosophy of freedom: “You know what freedom is? No fear. Just like Tom Cruise.”

Alright, recruits, we're heading to a location that might be filled with illegals to take down. We're just here for questioning, cooperate and nothing bad will happen. I'm really sorry about this, I've got a monthly nut, you know. I gotta make my nut. Did a good job in there, soldier. I know it's tough doing what's hard, but we could use more men like you. What the Your Botox, miss Norm? Fix me up. Another day doing what's tough. Welcome to Mora Lago. Oh, you, mister president. Excuse me. I'm sorry. Backpack. Doorly explorer. Excuse me.

Show me your ID. Throw a fucking gun on me. Holy shit. Show me your ID. Pull a fucking gun on me. Pull a fucking gun on me. I'm gonna go. We're not friends. Run. Sorry,

You switched to hot? What happened to the baby? I’m done with you. This is your baby. Remember what we did? I’m done hiding her. Hey, my name is Agent 0. What’s up? Is this your baby mama? No way, that’s your baby, Kai. What’s her name? Zola. Zola? I don’t have a kid. But she looks just like you! How come you never told me? I don’t have a kid. You do! No, I don’t. Never! She really looks just like you, Kai.

Door closed. Where's Viv? Get over there. You good? Get out.

Get your hand off my camera right now! I apologize, but I need to follow protocol. Don't cover my camera! What do you want? There's no need for that. I have a warrant. Get off my property! Are you home to talk? Yes, I'm hiding from you. Show me the warrant! You're losing connection. Get off my property! I don't care who's with you. No one is welcome here. You can stand on the curb and show me the warrant. Get all your friends off my property! No need for that language. You pointed guns at me! Get the hell out!

Can I have a light? Sure, here you go. And your wallet. Give him your wallet, Nick. Why? He has a knife. That's not a knife, that's a knife. Translation (if needed): Can I have a light? Sure, here you go. And your wallet. Give him your wallet, Nick. Why? He has a knife. That's not a knife, that's a knife.

I'm the walker, baby. Why so quintess? Where is your fucking god now? Shit. Skippity Riz. Skong gang. The big boy. Fucking rip and tear. That's the big one. Don't forget to live, laugh, and love. Some smoke. Extra thick. H shit. Motherfucker. Where should we get my fucking private Gengen? Fuck, Nigel. That dude raped someone. Got my new headphones so I can hear them scream. I got my Minnesota patch. Maybe I look like a cop, and I won't get rushed or something. Let's fucking do this before things are in your kitchen. Got more Jew gas taped on this end. This will be for the emergency exit. Pop it through the hand. This is all too fucking real. Nigger. Tomorrow. Tomorrow. I love you. I hate you. It's the end of the world as we know it, and I feel really good.

When we go undercover, we cover the antiques and the crap. Can you put that back in? Thank you. Do you feel better? Did you guys get sprayed? Here, take this.