Go Quotes
Go! tells the story of the events after a drug deal, told from three different points of view.
Victor Sr.: You know what wakes me up in the middle of the night covered in a cold sweat? Knowing that you aren't any worse than anyone else in your whole screwed up generation. In the old days, you know how you got to the top? Huh? By being better than the guy ahead of you. How do you people get to the top? By being so fucking incompetent, that the guy ahead of you can't do his job, so he falls on his ass and congratulations, you are now on top. And now the top is down here, it used to be up here... and you don't even know the fucking difference.
[Claire and Todd are having breakfast together, and he's reading the funnies in the newspaper]
Claire: So, what do you have against The Family Circus?
Todd: Okay. You sit down and read your paper, and you're enjoying your entire two-page comics spread. Right? And then there's the Family fucking Circus, bottom right-hand corner, just waiting to suck.
Claire: So, what do you have against The Family Circus?
Todd: Okay. You sit down and read your paper, and you're enjoying your entire two-page comics spread. Right? And then there's the Family fucking Circus, bottom right-hand corner, just waiting to suck.
Tiny: And whack! It hits her in the eye. And her contact? It's, like, stuck on the end of my dick!
[Tiny waits for a reaction, but his friends are unimpressed. Only Marcus, in the front passenger seat, turns his head, alertly, like a lion smelling prey]
Tiny: Yo, her contact was stuck on the end of my dick, yo!
Marcus: Was it hard or was it soft?
Tiny: What, my dick?
Singh: The contact lens!
Marcus: Do you remember if it was a colored lens? That she used to have two blue eyes, and now she had one blue and one brown?
Tiny: [Still elated from telling his story] Hey, what the fuck does that matter?
Marcus: [Marcus turns to look at Tiny over the headrest of the front passenger seat, and stares him straight in the eye] It matters because it happened to ME. That was my story. I told that story a year ago, man!
Tiny: Aw, no.
Marcus: The difference is that I knew those small but important details. That and, and my story was true.
Tiny: Oh.
[Embarrassed, he looks out the window, away from Marcus]
Tiny: Whatever.
Marcus: Whatever?
Tiny: Whatever!
Marcus: What do you mean, whatever?
Tiny: Why don't you pull your stinky-dinky out of my ass? I'm just trying to make conversation. Fuck! Come on, why don't you give a nigger a break?
Marcus: [Marcus turns around in the car seat again] "Nigger"? What nigger?
[touches his own chest]
Marcus: THIS nigger?
Tiny: Yo, I told you, my mother's mother's mother were black!
Marcus: Your mother's mother's mother, fuck - this ain't "Roots", mutha... Man, I wanna see a picture of this Nubian princess.
[angry cross-talk]
Marcus: If you were any less black, you would be clear.
Tiny: That bitch was black as night!
Singh: Okay! Stop! Truce!
Tiny: But I see black. Because I know I am. Color's a state of mind, Marcus!
Marcus: You know what, you right. Thank you, Rhythm Nation.
[And the laughter and insults continue... ]
[Tiny waits for a reaction, but his friends are unimpressed. Only Marcus, in the front passenger seat, turns his head, alertly, like a lion smelling prey]
Tiny: Yo, her contact was stuck on the end of my dick, yo!
Marcus: Was it hard or was it soft?
Tiny: What, my dick?
Singh: The contact lens!
Marcus: Do you remember if it was a colored lens? That she used to have two blue eyes, and now she had one blue and one brown?
Tiny: [Still elated from telling his story] Hey, what the fuck does that matter?
Marcus: [Marcus turns to look at Tiny over the headrest of the front passenger seat, and stares him straight in the eye] It matters because it happened to ME. That was my story. I told that story a year ago, man!
Tiny: Aw, no.
Marcus: The difference is that I knew those small but important details. That and, and my story was true.
Tiny: Oh.
[Embarrassed, he looks out the window, away from Marcus]
Tiny: Whatever.
Marcus: Whatever?
Tiny: Whatever!
Marcus: What do you mean, whatever?
Tiny: Why don't you pull your stinky-dinky out of my ass? I'm just trying to make conversation. Fuck! Come on, why don't you give a nigger a break?
Marcus: [Marcus turns around in the car seat again] "Nigger"? What nigger?
[touches his own chest]
Marcus: THIS nigger?
Tiny: Yo, I told you, my mother's mother's mother were black!
Marcus: Your mother's mother's mother, fuck - this ain't "Roots", mutha... Man, I wanna see a picture of this Nubian princess.
[angry cross-talk]
Marcus: If you were any less black, you would be clear.
Tiny: That bitch was black as night!
Singh: Okay! Stop! Truce!
Tiny: But I see black. Because I know I am. Color's a state of mind, Marcus!
Marcus: You know what, you right. Thank you, Rhythm Nation.
[And the laughter and insults continue... ]
