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JP1: Is there anything useful on those records? "I want you to perform fellatio." "I know where the bodies are buried." "Don't lowball me, you slanty-eyed little shit."

JP1: [George] loved the business.
Ronald: Loved it so much he killed himself.
Gordon: With a fork.

Edited by ElectricBoogaloo

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Blaine: [JP3]'s on one of his benders again.
Gail: No, he's not!
Blaine: Any second now, he's going to walk in with a massive hangover asking for money. Wouldn't be the first time, would it?
Gail: Kids on benders don't send fucking kidnap notes.
Blaine: Oh. That I didn't know. How was I supposed to know?

Bullimore: It would appear from the paper that your grandson has been kidnapped.
JP1: I am perfectly capable of reading, Bullimore. The butter is too hard.

Security guard: ID please, sir.
JP2: I am John Paul Getty the second. This place is mine effectively, eventually.

JP1: Meet Fletcher Chase, my head of security. My son, the boy's father - unable to travel to Italy due to an outstanding arrest warrant for possession of drugs or manslaughter. I forget which.

Fletcher: Who saw [JP3] last?
Bullimore: I believe that was me, sir.
Fletcher: Did he say anything to you?
Bullimore: He merely mentioned that he and his friends owed money to the mafia, sir.
JP2: I'm sorry, the mafia? And you merely mention this now? Jesus Christ, Bollimore!
Bullimore: Well, I had hoped to mention it to Mr. Getty at breakfast, but there was a problem with the butter.
Fletcher: You for real? Is he for real?

JP1: What security measures do you have currently?
Gordon: Uh, none.
JP1: Then you're a fool.

Ronald: Is [my father] going to fund this extra security?
Robina: No need to answer that, Ronald.
Ronald: In that case, please thank my father for waking me up in the middle of the night and tell him to stick his security up his ass.
Robina: You're on speakerphone, Ronald.

Fletcher: Ma'am, I mean no offense, but is there any chance that he could be involved?
Gail: Blaine? No.
Fletcher: He doesn't seem to like your boy very much.
Gail: They don't get on, but no, no way.
Fletcher: Well, what makes you so sure?
Gail: For one thing, he's not clever enough.
Fletcher: Okay. I'll buy that.

Gail: Chase, what am I going to do?
Fletcher: Well, the good Lord preaches forgiveness, but what that done to his mama, I'd whup his ass.

Edited by ElectricBoogaloo

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JP1: You think Dennis is a homosexual? He's very fond of roses.
Penelope: He's a gardener. Of course he's fond of roses.

Robina: To whom it may concern, Thank you for your letter to John Paul Getty, and for explaining your situation. With regards to your request for money, Mr. Getty is a businessman, not a charity. He therefore regrets he is unable to help you now or at any time in the future. He wishes you luck in finding support elsewhere.

Robina: Christ. This machine's going to need therapy.

JP1: Are you telling me that this is what is holding our whole operation up?
Fletcher: This is sacred land.
JP1: But have we offered them a lot of sacred money?

JP1: So what are you saying? This business is not a hoax? My grandson really has been kidnapped?
Fletcher: What I'm saying is that when people start getting killed, whatever it is, it's not a hoax anymore.

Penelope: How much?
JP1: In Italian law, any amount over $600 is extortion. So the offer is $600 plus expenses.
Penelope: $600?
JP1: If you had been present earlier, you might understand. I said, "plus expenses. " Italian accountancy. One of life's great oxymorons. In il bel paese you can load up the expense side of the ledger like a pack horse. That should compensate everyone for their trouble. And the $600 figure ensures both that they are in the clear, legally, and the Getty family has very publicly not paid a ransom.

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JP1: [Does Tussauds have a waxwork of] Hadrian?
Gavin: Not that I know of.
JP1: Well, you should. A much misunderstood emperor. I am his reincarnation.
Gavin: Super.

Bullimore: The rest of them only notice when I'm not there. I've spent 22 years in service to a family who don't even know my name. He calls them all Bullimore, his butlers, no matter who they really are.
Dennis: And who are you, really? If you don't mind me asking?
Bullimore: My name is Khan.
Dennis: And what about your first name?
Bullimore: In the evening, Jahangir.

Doctor: Am I correct in thinking you don't have any children?
Penelope: Yes. No. Correct.
Doctor: At your age, there's a good chance this might well be your last chance to conceive.
Penelope: Well, I should bloody well think so.

JP1: Bullimore!Oh, splendid man. What would I do without you? - Bullimore: Thank you, sir. 
JP1: Do you fish? Oh, yes, of course you fish. Take the day off. Go fishing.
Bullimore: Thank you, sir.
JP1: But before you leave, pack me a bag. I'm going on a little trip.
Bullimore: Yes, sir.

Bullimore: Good day, sir.
JP2: Fuck off, Bullimore.

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JP1: Do you know what a hammer is?
JP3: Yes.
JP1: And do you know what a nail is?
JP3: Yes.
JP1: Well, that, young man, is all you need to know about crucifixion.

JP1: A bit of [power] makes you want a lot of it, and a lot of it makes you want all of it.

JP1: I'm going to keep in touch with you.
JP2: You'll keep in touch with me?
JP1: Yes. I have to go to England.
JP2: England?
JP1: Stop repeating everything I say.

JP2: I'm trying my best, sir.
JP1: Do better.

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JP1: Strange decision, removing an ear. It's not definitive. A finger comes with a print. Better.
Robina: Perhaps they'll send a finger next time.

Gail: Please, accept your father's loan.
JP2: See, that's the problem exactly - it's a loan. Now he's offering to lend me my money from the trust at four percent above the base. My own money. He stands to make a profit. The bastard stands to profit off the kidnapping of our son.
Gail: I know. But how much more of him do you want to see hacked off and put in the post? Please. Put your name on a piece of paper
JP2: No! No, no, no. I can't. 
Gail: Sign the damn thing. 
JP2: No, no, no, no, no, no. 
Gail: Please. 
JP2: I can't. You don't understand. If I sign, then he has got me. I mean, don't you remember the phone calls day and night? The visits, the repayment schedule, the bullying that slowly, slowly sucks the life out of you until you are in a garage at a party, stabbing yourself to death in the chest with a barbecue fork. It killed George. It killed him. And I can't do it. It'll kill me.
Gail: It's our son who will be killed, Paul.
JP2: I can't I can't do it.

Patrick: Look, I'm no billionaire. The only things I own in the world are a biplane with an oil leak and a house with dicky plumbing. I can't even guarantee you a hot bath. But I love you. Only you. And the dog. With all my heart, Penelope.

JP1: I believe an apology is in order.
JP2: Well, I don't think that I have anything to apologize for.
JP1: Not from you. From me. I was wrong.
JP2: You were wrong?
JP1: It does happen. I propose a compromise.
JP2: A compromise?
JP1: Paul! You continue to repeat everything that I say.

Penelope: How many millions will you make from your Nixon deal?
JP1: Considerably more than I loaned my son.
Penelope: Extraordinary. He made no attempt to negotiate at all. The boy has learned nothing.
Penelope: But I have. Finally. I couldn't leave until I knew Little Paul was going to be all right. But now he is. I can say good-bye. Good-bye, Paul. And good luck.

Leonardo: We've given [JP3] penicillin every day but he keeps getting worse.
Doctor: Who prescribed penicillin?
Leonardo: Domenica De Luca.
Doctor: De Luca? You got a bloody vet?
Leonardo: Gave him a double dose.
Primo: DO you know what's wrong with him or not?
Doctor: Apart from having an ear torn off his head, yes, I know. He's allergic to penicillin.

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Victoria: Where's the ceremony?
JP2: In Italy. Well, he knows I can't go to Italy. I pay his ransom and this is how he thanks me. Banning me from his fucking wedding? Not that I would go anyway. Not to that.
Victoria: Little Paul is getting married in Italy because that's where he lives. You paid his ransom because you're his father.

Primo: First hole you had dug that didn't have a body.
Leonardo: Progress.

Fletcher: I know what you're thinking, but worry not. The lord brings justice to both the righteous and the sinner - unless the righteous have enough money to pay off the justice and the sinners don't, of course.

Jeffries: Khan? Good to see you again, old chap.
Bullimore: Indeed.
JP1: You know this man Jeffries?
Bullimore: We were at school together, sir.
JP1: You went to Eton?
Bullimore: Briefly, sir.
JP1: Ugh, it's worse than the mafia.

Von Block: "Entering the Getty Museum, I expected grandeur but not in such copious amounts. This reproduction Roman villa is vulgar, tasteless, and straight out of Disneyland."
Margot: I love Disneyland! What? It's very popular, no?

Von Block: "It is hard to decide whether Jean Paul Getty's folly is merely incongruous or genuinely ludicrous."

Chace: The Lord changes times and seasons. He removes kings, and He sets up kings." Daniel 2:21. Turns out the lord has a sense of humor. The old man who hated drugs paid for the port that now provides 80% of Europe's cocaine, making a bunch of former goat farmers the most feared crime syndicate in the world - and the richest.

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