Joe: "You're Mr. Pink."
Mr. Pink: "Why do I have to be Mr. Pink?"
Joe: "'Cause you're a f*ckin' f*ggot, that's why!"
Mr. Pink: "Why can't we pick our own colors?"
Joe: "No way, no way! Tried it once and it doesn't work. You get four guys, all fightin' over who's gonna be Mr. Black. They don't know each other, so nobody wants to back down. No way-- I pick. You're Mr. Pink. Be thankful you're not Mr. Yellow.
Mr. Brown: "Yeah, yeah, but "Mr. Brown"? That's little too close to "Mr. Shit".
Mr. Pink: Yeah, "Mr. Pink" sounds like "Mr. Pussy". Tell you what, let me be Mr. Purple. That sounds good to me. I'm Mr. Purple.
Joe: You're *not* Mr. Purple. Somebody from another job's Mr. Purple. You're Mr. Pink!
Mr. White: "Who cares what your name is?"
Mr. Pink: "Yeah, that's easy for you to say, you're Mr. White, you have a cool sounding name. Alright look, if it's no big deal for you to be Mr. Pink, you wanna trade?"
Joe: "Hey, nobody's tradin' with anybody! This ain't a g*ddmaned f*ckin' city council meeting, you know! Now listen up Mr. Pink-- there's two ways you can go on this job: My way or the highway. Now what's it gonna be, Mr. Pink?
Mr. Pink: "Jesus Christ, Joe, f*ckin' forget about it. It's beneath me, you know, it's Mr. Pink. Let's move on."
Joe: "I'll move on when I feel like it. You all got the g*ddamned message?"
Reservoir Dogs, 1992
Directed by Quentin Tarantino