Mirror Scene from 25TH HOUR , EDWARD Norton, directed by Spike Lee

Monty Brogan say: Yeah, fuck you, too. Fuck *me*? Fuck *you*, Fuck you and this whole city and everyone in it. Fuck the panhandlers, grubbing for money, and smiling at me behind my back. Fuck the squeegee men dirtying up the clean windshield of my car - get a fucking job! Fuck the Sikhs and the Pakistanis bombing down the avenues in decrepit cabs, curry steaming out their pores stinking up my day. Terrorists in fucking training. SLOW THE FUCK DOWN! Fuck the Chelsea boys with their waxed chests and pumped-up biceps. Going down on each other in my parks and on my piers, jingling their dicks on my Channel 35. Fuck the Korean grocers with their pyramids of overpriced fruit and their tulips and roses wrapped in plastic. Ten years in the country, still no speaky English? Fuck the Russians in Brighton Beach. Mobster thugs sitting in cafs, sipping tea in little glasses, sugar cubes between their teeth. Wheelin' and dealin' and schemin'. Go back where you fucking came from! Fuck the black-hatted Chassidim, strolling up and down 47th street in their dirty gabardine with their dandruff. Selling South African apartheid diamonds! Fuck the Wall Street brokers. Self-styled masters of the universe. Michael Douglas, Gordon Gekko wannabe mother fuckers, figuring out new ways to rob hard working people blind. Send those Enron assholes to jail for FUCKING LIFE! You think Bush and Cheney didn't know about that shit? Give me a fucking break! Tyco! Worldcom! Fuck the Puerto Ricans. Twenty to a car, swelling up the welfare rolls, worst fuckin' parade in the city. And don't even get me started on the Dom-in-i-cans, 'cause they make the Puerto Ricans look good. Fuck the Bensonhurst Italians

with their pomaded hair, their nylon warm-up suits, their St. Anthony medallions, swinging their Jason Giambi Louisville Slugger baseball bats, trying to audition for "The Sopranos." Fuck the Upper East Side wives with their Herms scarves and their fifty-dollar Balducci artichokes. Overfed faces getting pulled and lifted and stretched, all taut and shiny. You're not fooling anybody, sweetheart! Fuck the uptown brothers. They never pass the ball, they don't want to play defense, they take five steps on every lay-up to the hoop. And then they want to turn around and blame everything on the white man. Slavery ended one hundred and thirty seven years ago. Move the fuck on! Fuck the corrupt cops with their anus-violating plungers and their 41 shots, standing behind a blue wall of silence. You betray our trust! Fuck the priests who put their hands down some innocent child's pants. Fuck the church that protects them, delivering us into evil. And while you're at it, fuck J.C.! He got off easy! A day on the cross, a weekend in hell, and all the hallelujahs of the legioned angels for eternity! Try seven years in fuckin' Otisville, J.! Fuck Osama Bin Laden, al-Qaeda, and backwardass cave-dwelling fundamentalist assholes everywhere. On the names of innocent thousands murdered, I pray you spend the rest of eternity with your seventy-two whores roasting in a jet-fuel fire in hell. You towel-headed camel jockeys can kiss my royal Irish ass! Fuck Jacob Elinsky. Whining malcontent. Fuck Francis Xavier Slaughtery my best friend, judging me while he stares at my girlfriend's ass. Fuck Naturelle Riviera, I gave her my trust and she stabbed me in the back, sold me up the river, fucking bitch. Fuck my father with his endless grief, standing behind that bar sipping on club sodas, selling whisky to firemen, and cheering the Bronx Bombers. Fuck this whole city and

everyone in it. From the row-houses of Astoria to the penthouses on Park Avenue, from the projects in the Bronx to the lofts in Soho. From the tenements in Alphabet City to the brownstones in Park Slope to the split-levels in Staten Island. Let an earthquake crumble it, let the fires rage, let it burn to fucking ash and then let the waters rise and submerge this whole rat-infested place. [pause] Monty Brogan: No. No, fuck you, Montgomery Brogan. You had it all, and you threw it away, you *dumb* *fuck*! Translate: Sa ti-o trag ! Da ? Sa ti-o trag si eu ! pe tine si intreg orasul si pe oricine din el. Nu, nu, nu, nu. La naiba cu spoitorii care cersesc banii p estrada, zambindu-mi in spate. Sa i-o trag cioroiului care imi murdareste parbrizul curat. Cauta-ti dracu de munca !. La naiba cu indienii si pakistanezii care au napadit strazile in rablele lor de taxiuri putind a curry prin toti porii, stricandu-mi ziua. La naiba cu imputitii de teroristi la antrenament. Incetineste in penisu meu! ..sa incepi un trataent din asta ca sa iti maresti penisul. Sa-i sparg pe baietii din Chelsea cu piepturile lor lucioase si bicepsii umflati mergand mana-n mana prin parcuri si pe chei balabanindu-si maciucile pe canalul 35. La naiba cu bacanii coreeni, cu piramidele lor de fructe scumpe si cu lalele si trandafirii impachetati in plastic. De 10 ani in tara asta si inca nu vorbesc engleza.. Sa-i sparg si pe rusii din Brighton Beach, mafioti stand in cafenele sorbindu-si ceaiurile, cu cuburi de zahar intre dinti, facand afaceri si scheme.. plecati naibii de unde ati venit. La naiba si cu Hasidim cu palaria lui neagra plimbandu-se in sus si in jos p estrada 47, in pardesiurile lor jegoase, pline de matreata, vanzand diamante sudafricane. Haide ! nevasta ta merita asta. Sa-i sparg si pe brokerii de pe

Wall street, maestri autostilati ai universului. Ca Michael DouglasGordon Gekko, ar vrea sa devina dobitocii aia imaginand noi cai de jefuire a populatiei oarbe. Trimiteti pe toti enronii gaozari la puscarie pentru toate viata lor. Crezi ca Bush si Cheney stiu de rahatul asta ? Lasati-ma naibii! Worldcom. La naiba si cu portoricanii, 20 intr-o masina, umflandu-si rolul lor de binefacere, cea mai imputita parada din oras. Si inca n-am inceput cu dominicanii, din cauza ca astia ii fac pe portoricani sa arate bine. Cine naiba e asta ? Pleaca naibii de aici ! Sa-i sparg si pe italieni cu parul lor imbacsit, cu hainele lor de nylon, cu medalioanele lor, leganandu-si batele jason giambi louisville slugger dand auditie ptr clanul sopranul: iti crap capul, iti crap capul.. ! Bensonhurst ! bensonhurst ! La naiba si cu nevestele din Upper East Side si cu esarfele lor hermes de 50 $ ! Taxi ! Sa-i sparg si pe fratii de pe periferie. Niciodata nu paseaza mingea, nu vor sa joace in defensiva, fac 5 pasi la fiecare saritura si atunci vor sa se intoarca si sa arunce vina pe albi. Nu ne dam batuti ! Nu ne dam batuti ! Sclavia s-a sfarsit acum 137 de ani in urma. Misca dracu inainte ! La naiba si cu politistii corupti, cu pistoalele lor 41, stand in spatele unui zid albastru, de tacere. Ne-ai inselat increderea ! La naiba cu popii ce-si pun mainile oe fundul unui copil inocent. Da-o naibii de biserica ca le permite asta, ducandu-ne in pacat. Si cat este in ea, sa i-o trag si lui J.C.: i-a trecut usor, o zip e cruce, un weekend in iad si toate rugaciunile ingerilor pe vecie ! Incearca 7 ani in imputitul Ottisville. Sa i-o trag si lui Osama Bin Laden, Al quaeda, pe toti care sunt in spatele lor pe toti gaozarii fundamentalisti d epretuntideni. In numele miilor de nevinovati ucisi, ma rog sa va petreceti eternitatea cu 72 de curve, prajindu-va in jeturi de benzina in iad. Jocheu de camila cu capu-n turban ma poti pupa in curul meu regesc si irlandez. Am luat nota de cat de multi din cati am crezut vreodata sunt dovezi la represiunii sexuale sal de alta natura

Sa i-o trag lui Jacob ELinsky. Sa i-o trag lui Francis Xavier Slaughterry, cel mai bun prieten al meu, Judecandu-ma in timp ce se holbeaza la curul prietenei mele. Sa i-o trag si lui Naturelle Riviera. Aveam incredere in ea si m-a injunghiat pe la spate. M-a vandut ! Cateaua dracu ! La naiba si cu tata si cu durerea lui nesfarsita, stand in spatele barului, sorbindu-si sifonul de la Club, vanzand whiskey pompierilor si sustinandu-i pe bronx bombers. Dati-i drumul yankees ! La naiba cu tot orasul, asta si cu toti din el, de la casele din Astoria pana in park avenue, de la poriectele din bronx pana in soho, d la casele amarate din alphabet city pana la casele de piatra bruna in park slope, de la nivele impartite in staten Island, darama-s-ar la cutremur, ardele-ar focul pana s-ar face cenusa si sa le inghita apa, sa se scufunde toata lumea asta infectata cu sobolani. Nu, Nu. Sparge-te-as pe tine Monty Brogan!: Ai avut totul si ti-ai batut joc, tampit nenorocit !