A rich but jealous man hires a private investigator to kill his cheating wife and her new man. But, when blood is involved, nothing is simple.

[last lines]
Abby: [after shooting Visser] I'm not afraid o' you, Marty.
Private Detective Visser: [laughing hysterically] Well, ma'am, if I see him, I'll sure give him the message.
[first lines]
Private Detective Visser: [narrating] The world is full o' complainers. An' the fact is, nothin' comes with a guarantee. Now I don't care if you're the pope of Rome, President of the United States or Man of the Year; somethin' can all go wrong. Now go on ahead, y'know, complain, tell your problems to your neighbor, ask for help, 'n watch him fly. Now, in Russia, they got it mapped out so that everyone pulls for everyone else... that's the theory, anyway. But what I know about is Texas, an' down here... you're on your own.
Ray: If you point a gun at someone, you'd better make sure you shoot him, and if you shoot him you'd better make sure he's dead, because if he isn't then he's gonna get up and try to kill you.
Private Detective Visser: Gimme a call whenever you wanna cut off my head. I can always crawl around without it.
Ray: He was alive when I buried him.
Marty: I got a job for you.
Private Detective Visser: Uh, well, if the pay's right, and it's legal, I'll do it.
Marty: It's not strictly legal.
Private Detective Visser: [Thinks for a second] Well, if the pay's right, I'll do it.
Marty: [to Ray, out in back of the bar] You think I'm funny, I'm an asshole? No no no... what's funny is HER... what's funny is, I had you two followed, because if it's not you she's sleeping with, it's someone else... what's funny is, when she gives you that LOOK, and says, 'I don't know what you're talkin' about, Ray, I ain't done nothin' funny'... but the funniest thing to ME is... you think SHE came back HERE for YOU... THAT'S what's FUCKIN' FUNNY!
Private Detective Visser: You know, you know, a friend of mine a while back broke his hand and put it in a cast. Very next day, he falls, protects his bad hand, and he breaks his good one. So he breaks it too, you know. So, now he's got two busted flippers. So, I says to him: "Creighton," I says. "I hope your wife really loves you, because for the next five weeks, you can't even wipe your own god damn ass."
Private Detective Visser: That's the test, ain't it? Test of true love.
Abby: I ain't done nothing funny.
Meurice: Howdy stranger.
Ray: Meurice. Sorry I didn't show last night.
Meurice: Wasn't too busy. You missed a good one, though. This white guy walks in about one o'clock, asks if we have a discount for alcoholics... I tell him to get lost, but Marty's sitting here listening and I can tell he's thinking that maybe it ain't such a bad idea.
Meurice: Marty. Thought you were dead. You goin' home?
Marty: No. I'm staying right here in hell.
Meurice: Kind of a bleak point of view there, isn't it, Marty?
Marty: Meurice... I don't want the asshole near my money. And I don't want him in the bar.
Meurice: [pause] We get a lotta assholes in here, Marty.
Strip-Bar Exhorter: And remember, gentlemen, we're always here, two to two, A.M. to P.M., three hundred and sixty-four days and Christmas, God willing and the creek don't rise.
[Visser has just given Marty some bad news]
Marty: You know... in Greece, they would cut off the head of the messenger that brought the bad news.
Private Detective Visser: Now that don't make much sense.
Marty: No. It made them feel better.
Private Detective Visser: Well first off, Julian, I don't know what the story is in Greece but in this state we got very definite laws about that. Second place I ain't a messenger, I'm a private investigator. And third place - and most important - it ain't such bad news. I mean you thought he was a colored.
[he laughs]
Private Detective Visser: You're always assumin' the worst.
[Marty gives Visser his money]
Marty: Count it, and go.
Private Detective Visser: Naw, I trust you.
[Visser shoots Marty]
Meurice: [to Ray] Look. Personally I don't give a shit. I know Marty's a hard-on but you gotta do something. I don't know; give the money back, say you're sorry, or get the fuck out of here, or something... It's very humiliating, preaching about this shit... I'm not laughing at this, Ray Bob, so you know it's no fucking joke.
Abby: I said, "Marty, how come you're anal, and *I* gotta go to the psychiatrist?"
Ray: What'd he say?
Abby: Nothing. He's like you, he doesn't say much.
Ray: Thanks.
Abby: Except when he doesn't say things, they're usually nasty. When you don't, they're usually nice.
Marty: Let's do it outside, in nature.
[grabbing Abby from behind after breaking into Ray's house]
Marty: Lover boy really oughta lock his door. Lotta nuts out there.
Private Detective Visser: [about a photo of Ray and Abby] I know a place you can get that framed.
Marty: What did you take these for?
Private Detective Visser: What do you mean? Just doin' my job.
Marty: You called me, I knew they were there, so what do I need these for?
Private Detective Visser: Well, I don't know... Call it a fringe benefit.
Marty: How long did you watch her?
Private Detective Visser: Most of the night... They'd just rest a few minutes and then get started again. Quite something.
Marty: [looking at a doctored photo of Ray and Abby] Dead?
Private Detective Visser: So it would seem.
Marty: Lover-boy oughta lock his door. I love you... That's a stupid thing to say, right?
Abby: I... I love you too.
Marty: [smiling] No. You're just saying that because you're scared. You left your weapon behind... He'll kill you too.
Marty: [after Visser agrees to kill Abby and Ray for $10,000] I'll take care of the money, you just make sure those bodies aren't found...
[starts to turn away, then turns back]
Marty: ... there's a big incinerator in back of my place.
Private Detective Visser: [after Marty walks away] Jeeee-sus, you are disgustin'.
Meurice: JEEEE-zus, I've got a hangover...
[picks up a bottle of liquor]
Meurice: ... you wanta drink?
Abby: [referring to Marty] Fact is... he's ANAL, Ray!
Ray: Hmmmmm?
Abby: [pointing to her forehead] In HERE... Abby, in HERE... I'm anal.
Ray: Well, I'll be damned.
Abby: I couldn't believe it myself.
Abby: He took me to a psychiatrist one time, to calm me down... the psychiatrist said I was the healthiest person he'd ever talked to, so Marty fired him.
Ray: I don't think you can fire a psychiatrist, 'zactly.
Abby: Well I never saw him again, I can tell you that.
Abby: Ray?
Ray: You're bad.
Abby: What?
Ray: I said you're bad.
Abby: [long pause, then smiles] You're bad too.
Ray: We're both bad.
Private Detective Visser: [to Marty] Who looks stupid now?
Abby: He gave me a little pearl-handled .38 for our first anniversary.
Ray: Uh-huh.
Abby: Figured I'd better leave before I used it on him. I don't know how you can stand him.
Ray: Well, I'm only an employee, I ain't married to him.