Dalton: “All right. People who really want to have a good time won’t come to a slaughterhouse. We’ve got entirely too many troublemakers here. Too many 40-year-old adolescents, felons, power-drinkers, and trustees of modern chemistry. It’s going to change.”
Bouncer 1: “Man, that sure sounds good, but a lot of the guys who come in here, we can’t handle one-on-one. Even two-on-one.”
Dalton: “Don’t worry about it. All you have to do is follow three simple rules.”
“One, never underestimate your opponent. Expect the unexpected.”
“Two, take it outside. Never start anything inside the bar, unless it’s absolutely necessary.”
“And three, be nice.”
Bouncer 2: “Come on.”
Dalton: “If somebody gets in your face and calls you a cocksucker, I want you to be nice.”
Bouncer 2: “Okay.”
Dalton: “Ask him to walk. Be nice. If he won’t walk, walk him, but be nice. If you can’t walk him, one of the others will help you, and you’ll both be nice.”
“I want you to remember that it’s a job. It’s nothing personal.”
Bouncer 3: “Uh-huh. Bein’ called a cocksucker isn’t personal?”
Dalton: “No. It’s two nouns combined to elicit a prescribed response.”
Bouncer 3: “Well, wonder if somebody calls my momma a whore?”
Dalton: “Is she?”
“I want you to be nice, until it’s time to not be nice.”
Bouncer 4: “Well, uh, how’re we supposed to know when that is?”
Dalton: “You won’t, I’ll let you know. You are the bouncers, I am the cooler. All you have to do is watch my back, and each other’s, and take out the trash.”