Robert Boyd Quotes in Very Bad Things (1998)

Robert Boyd: That's not the point, Adam. I mean, the room is covered in blow; Moore looks like he went at it with a fuckin' mountain lion; I mean, the room looks like the Manson family stayed here a month. This is a major thin-ice situation we got here.

Robert Boyd: Now, let's just take a second here and take ahold of the situation and review our options.

Adam Berkow: We'll call the police!

Robert Boyd: Call the police. Good. That's one option.

Adam Berkow: That's not an option! This is not multiple choice, here!

Robert Boyd: Yes, it is. There are always options, Adam.

Robert Boyd: A simple vote. We've got two choices. One: we clean up this mess, right now, bury it out in the desert, go home, and never look back - or, we can easily call the police, roll the dice, take our chances, and pray to God that it's only Michael who falls.

[Michael looks up, stricken]

Robert Boyd: Our choices are simple: desert - or police.

Robert Boyd: Calm down! We're not helping anything by losing our temper. Let's just get our heads together, okay? Whatever we associate in our nervous system determines our behavior. Just relax.

Security Guard: [seeing the mess in the room] What the hell gets into you people?

Robert Boyd: [cheerfully] Drugs and alcohol.

Security Guard: [grins] Well, I got no problem with that.

Robert Boyd: Why are you calling an ambulance? She's dead.

[about the dead prostitute]

Robert Boyd: Nobody knows she's here. I called her personally. Nobody knows.

Adam Berkow: Her blood is all over the bathroom! Don't you think we got a little bit of a DNA problem here?

Robert Boyd: It's a marble floor. We can clean it up.

Robert Boyd: [after stabbing the hotel security guard] Don't let him bleed on the carpet!

[They push the guard into the bathroom]

Robert Boyd: Get back - shut the door! Son of a bitch! He'll bleed out! He'll bleed out! He'll bleed out.

Robert Boyd: Time for some serious self-exploration - how do I function. For real! No more bullshit. Can I keep my cool when they bounce my bananas, when they won't play my song, etc, etc, etc. Do you get me? DO YOU GET ME?

Michael Berkow: Not really, no.

Adam Berkow: You fucking murderer!

Michael Berkow: You're a fucking loser! You're a loser!

Robert Boyd: [Forcibly walking Michael to his jeep] We need to take a time out!

Adam Berkow: Go home! Go home, you fucking murderer!

Michael Berkow: Fuckin' loser!

Adam Berkow: GO HOME, YOU FUCKING MURDERER!

[Boyd has just murdered the hotel security guard who saw Tina's corpse]

Kyle Fisher: I'm calling the police.

Robert Boyd: So help me God, you touch that fuckin' phone, I'll bury you with them!