Friday, January 30, 2015
İz Bırakan Sahneler - 4 / True Romance: Origin of Sicilians
Coccotti: I know you know where they are. So tell me, before I do some damage you won't walk away from.
Clifford: Could I have one of those Chesterfields now?
Coccotti: Sure.
Clifford: You got a match? Oh wait no no, don't bother. I got one.
Clifford: You're Sicilian, huh?
Coccotti: Yeah, Sicilian.
Clifford: You know, I read a lot. Especially about things in, uh, about history. I find that shit fascinating. Here's a fact, I don't know whether you know or not, Sicilians ... were spawned by niggers.
Coccotti: Come again? [laughs]
Clifford: It's a fact. You see, Sicilians have black blood pumpin' through their hearts. If you don't believe me, you can look it up. Hundreds and hundreds of years ago, you see, the Moors conquered Sicily. And the Moors are niggers.
Coccotti: Yes...
Clifford: So you see, way back then, uh, Sicilians were like, uh, wops from Northern Italy. Ah, they all had blonde hair and blue eyes, but, uh, well, then the Moors moved in there, and uh, well, they changed the whole country. They did so much fuckin' with Sicilian women, huh? That they changed the whole bloodline forever. That's why blonde hair and blue eyes became black hair and dark skin. You know, it's absolutely amazing to me to think that to this day, hundreds of years later, that, uh, that Sicilians still carry that nigger gene. Now this...
[Coccotti laughs]
Clifford: No, I'm, no, I'm quoting... history. It's written. It's a fact, it's written.
Coccotti: [laughing] I love this guy. This guy.
Clifford: Your ancestors are niggers. Uh-huh. Hey. Yeah. And, and your great-great-great-great grandmother fucked a nigger, ho, ho, yeah, and she had a half-nigger kid... now, if that's a fact, tell me, am I lying? 'Cause you, you're part eggplant.
[All laughing]
Coccotti: Ohhh!
Clifford: Huh? Hey! Hey! Hey!
Coccotti: You're a cantaloupe. [laughing] Ohhh! This guy, beautiful.
[kisses Clifford on the cheeks, then shoots him]
Coccotti: I haven't killed anybody since 1984. Go over to this comedian's son's apartment, come back with something that tells me where that asshole went, so I can wipe this egg off my face and finish this fucked-up family for good.
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