McKenna: Gotta get the stuff out of your apartment, put it in the shop, and then we’ll call in a raid. Syd: You mean fentanyl out of my loft. I don’t pay what I pay in rent for an apartment. McKenna: That’s what you’re seriously thinking about right now? Syd: No, I’m thinking about how the hell I get the drugs out of my loft and into a stash house without anyone knowing.
Syd: Did you have them put your shoes back on? Big Mikey: Damn right. You know how much these off-whites cost? You didn’t have to chase me. McKenna: You didn’t have to run into traffic. Big Mikey: Oh, so it’s my fault now? Syd: You committed six homicides in two years, Big Mikey. McKenna: All drug dealers in their stash houses. Big Mikey: Nah, doesn’t sound like me. You ain’t got nothing. Syd: Well, the DNA evidence and all of the witnesses tie you to the murders, so there’s that. Big Mikey: You got DNA, forensics? OK. McKenna: Well, there’s video.