Derek: It's great, but what am I supposed to do with it?
George: Sell it.
Derek: Jesus Christ, George, I don't see you for two years and you show up on my doorstep with 110 pounds of blow.
George: Just fucking sell it, Derek.
Derek: Okay, but it's going to take me a year.
(scene shift to interior Derek's bar surrounded by stacks of cash)
Derek: 36 hours, 36 hours, I can't believe we got rid of it in 36 hours.