A criminal bides his time at a seedy motel, waiting for his boss after killing several men and making away with a mystery bag.

Dragna: Can I give you a little bit of advice, Jack? If you took one-tenth of the time you spend on killing people and devoted it to reading a book now and then, I really think you would derive great benefit. Don't you?
Jack: You don't know what you're getting into, man.
Ned: Oh, that's funny, because that's what I was just about to say to you.
Jack: You are one tough Hebrew.
Rivka: You have no idea. Maybe we should go to the hospital.
Jack: Ya think?
Dragna: I don't like surprises, I never did. I never really enjoyed that whole Pop Goes The Weasel thing. I mean, don't get me wrong, I appreciate the unexpected. And, in fact, I'd say I'm a connoisseur of the unexpected. But I don't like surprises.
Lawyer: You look like you've been in a war.
Rivka: You could say so. I'm lucky to have good doctors whose specialty's not asking questions.
Jack: I got shot.
Rivka: In the hand?
Jack: Yeah.
Rivka: Why?
Jack: Because I'm lucky like that.
Rivka: Did they miss your heart or they couldn't find it?
Dragna: You just can't keep the women in your life from dying horrible violent deaths, can you?
Ned: Not many people ask for room 13.
Jack: So it's available, yeah?
Ned: Was you asked to ask for that number?
Jack: Asked to ask?
Ned: Were you?
Jack: I'm asking you.
Ned: Room 13...
Jack: It's my lucky number. I'm a contrarian, you know?
Ned: You either a contrarian or you're a victim.
Larson: Hmm. A Gideon Bible and a shovel in every room.
Jack: Kitty Cat's gotta go her own way. Cats are amazing animals though. Survive all sorts of terrible shit, and they always land up on their feet.
Rivka: Not always.
Jack: Why? Why me?
Deputy Jones: Target practice.
Lizard: I've got solutions. Permanent, cruel ones.
[first lines]
Jack: You want to tell me what this is all about? I mean, if you want me to protect this, don't you want me to know what it is?
Dragna: No, I don't.
Jack: Okay. Can I ask you a question?
Dragna: Go ahead.
Jack: In all due respect, why don't you just hire FedEx?
Dragna: Because I'm hiring you, Jack.
Jack: So, you want me to pick up this bag and bring it to you, and that's it?
Dragna: I want to pay you an exorbitant amount of money to get the bag and bring it to me.
Dragna: You wouldn't shoot a man in the back, would you?
Rivka: A man, no. But you're not a man.
Dragna: Distrust is a disease that kills a friendship.