Malik Bishop Quotes in Love and a Bullet (2002)

Malik Bishop: [narrating] My name is Malik Bishop and I'm a professional hitman. Mm-hmm. See up until a month ago I was the hardest, coldest bastard to screw a silencer on a pistol. Now you're probably thinking, what kind of moral existence is that... professional hitman? Well, the way I see it the world is full of people that quite frankly we all could do without. Some argue that I'm one of those people. But I digress. I'm what you call a custodian of anthropoligical affairs, meaning I kill motherfuckers that are worthless.

Malik Bishop: [narrating after O.G. Buddy cusses out their boss Damien] Damien was definitely one rib short of a slab. Change was definitely in the air: change for Buddy, change for Damien and change for me. That afternoon I watched Buddy self-destruct just like I watched my father self-destruct. Buddy knew that going up against Damien was like blowing your own brains out. Damien was a crazy motherfucker, that's for sure. Suddenly, the things that Buddy talked about before, made sense: this was a shitty job.

[first lines]

Malik Bishop: [narrating] When I was ten, my father put a bullet in my mother's heart, rattled off some cryptic shit about the rent bein' due, and then he put a slug in his own head. With that level of Jackson-family-on-crack-type dysfunction, it's no wonder I turned out the way I did.

Malik Bishop: [after killing Cynda] Enjoy heaven, baby, 'cause I'm going straight to hell.

Malik Bishop: [to Hylene] I think you're trying to seduce me, Mrs. Robinson.

Malik Bishop: Now, I don't generally celebrate Thanksgiving in the traditional sense. Personally, I feel like the Indians should have gotten their hands on some muskets and busted some caps in those non-taxpaying, disease-carrying, land-stealing Pilgrims.

Malik Bishop: So, this is what it all comes down to, huh? Me, about to put a slug into a woman whose only crime was being loved by a nut-case gangster, wanna-be-white-Martin-Luther-King-on-crack. And now, all those feelings was coming out strange and foreign, forcing their way out of me like a bad burrito or something.

Damien Wiles: [voice in Bishop's telephone] Garrett Hotel, front desk in one half hour.

Malik Bishop: Mm-mm. No, I don't work on holidays.

Damien Wiles: It says here you work on Sundays *and* holidays. I got it right here.

Malik Bishop: No, shoot, Man, get Sala. He works on Sundays *and* holidays.

Damien Wiles: A special two-hour "Homicide" is coming on tonight. He won't come.

Malik Bishop: Listen, f*** that. Get the Milkman. He don't even celebrate holidays.

Damien Wiles: He's in D.C.

Malik Bishop: D.C.? Everybody flying to D.C... No, man, how am I gonna get down to some 'telly? I got greens on right now.

Damien Wiles: Holiday pay.

Malik Bishop: [Voiceover, to the audience] Well, after a little arm-twisting, I decided to do it. Hell, holiday pay seemed pretty good to me, 'specially since I was planning to disappear after this job. A little extra padding in the nest egg wouldn't hurt nobody.

Malik Bishop: [Hylene puts a gun to his head, then shows him that she is pregnant] You're damn belly's bigger than your gun. I know you ain't doing hits in this condition.

Hylene: You try waking up with morning sickness every day and see if you don't feel like blowing somebody's head off.