Nice Cut Of Meat

Money, Guns Weed

Death by Party | Now that you’ve had a taste of my mutton, how do you like it?

“I’m forty-seven. Forty-seven years old. You know how I stayed alive this long? All these years? Fear. The spectacle of fearsome acts. Somebody steals from me, I cut off his hands. He offends me, I cut out his tongue. He rises against me, I cut off his head, stick it on a pike, raise it high up so all on the streets can see. That’s what preserves the order of things.”

-Bill the Butcher (Gangs of New York)



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