Have you ever bought a ticket to the Junkie's Boneyard, Roman. It's an unpleasent place, called "Curl up and die". Might sound like a hair salon, but it don't fucking look like one, I could tell ya. It's a terrible sight, and a horrible sound listening to a man, suck in his soul through the hole in the pipe. It's even worse when he tries to tear it back. I've been there, and I've done that. And then I nailed that Demon in a smoke proof coffin, and I did it all with Johnny. I love that man, he's what you call class. And if you had any fucking brains, Roman, you'd love him too. You know his music sales have gone up 1000% in two weeks. You see, Johnny the crackhead, knows that a rocker is worth more dead than alive, silly world isn't it? Mr. Quid does not get his gear from me, he has to travel, far and wide. But do leave me a number, and if, the dead, feels like calling, you'll be the first to know.
RocknRolla (2008), Guy Ritchie.
