At the end of the day, when you're all alone in the dark, the only thing that counts is this: The Law. And you will be alone when you swear to uphold these ideals. For most of us, there's only death in the streets. For the few of us that survive to old age, the proud loneliness of the Long Walk. A walk that every Judge must take outside these city walls into the unknown of the Cursed Earth. And there spend your last remaining days taking Law to the Lawless. This is what it means to be a Judge. This is the commitment I expect.
How may I help you? –You can start by wiping that fucking dumb-ass smile off your rosy fucking cheeks. And you can give me a fucking automobile. A fucking Datsun, a fucking Toyota, a fucking Mustang, a fucking Buick. Four fucking wheels and a seat! –I really don't care for the way you're speaking to me. –And I really don't care for the way your company left me in the middle of fucking nowhere with fucking keys to a fucking car that isn't fucking there. And I really didn't care to fucking walk down a fucking highway and across a fucking runway to get back here to have you smile in my fucking face. I want a fucking car right fucking now. –May I see your rental agreement? –I threw it away. –Tsk. Oh boy. –'Oh boy,' what? –You're fucked.