An Irish journalist writes a series of stories about drug dealers.

Veronica Guerin: You'd do the same. If you saw those kids on the street, you would do the same.
Veronica Guerin: It'll be worse for me, and it'll be worse for journalism or any journalist if I was to be intimidated. Then that means they've won, and they're not going to win.
[to an informer who is bound and gagged in a derelict flat]
Martin Cahill: [genially but menacingly] Ah Jamey, Jamey, Jamey. You're an awful man, d'you know that? What did you have to go and shoot your mouth off to the Gards about me for? Did you think I wouldn't find out it was you? You know, I was thinking about killing you. And then I thought to myself, you know, sure, people get killed every day - and nobody gives a shite. So I've decided I'm going to have to hurt you a bit.
Jamey the Tout: [mumbling through gag] Jesus, no!
Martin Cahill: Actually, I'm going to hurt you an awful lot. But the good news is I'm going to do you myself. Oh yeah, personally. I mean, you don't want people thinking that just because I've got my name in the papers and all that, that Martin Cahill is too posh to do his own dirty work, now do you?
[Cahill puts on gloves and picks up a knife]
Jamey the Tout: [mumbling through gag] For fuck's sake!
Martin Cahill: Take the gag out of his mouth. Let the little scumbag squeal - it's what he's good at, isn't it?
[Out of shot, Jamey screams]
Veronica Guerin: You think I want to do this, do ya? I don't want to do it, I have to do it!

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