300

[Nikkohung You]

Tyler Durden: Guys, what would you wish you'd done before you died?
Steph: Paint a self-portrait.
The Mechanic: Build a house.
Tyler Durden: [to Narrator] And you?
Narrator: I don't know. Turn the wheel now, come on!
Tyler Durden: You have to know the answer to this question! If you died right now, how would you feel about your life?
Narrator: I don't know, I wouldn't feel anything good about my life, I didn't see 300, is that what you want to hear me say? Fine. Come on!
Tyler Durden: Not good enough.

[Krauz]

Listen. And understand. That 300 is out there. It can't be bargained with. It can't be reasoned with. It doesn't feel pity, or remorse, or fear. And it absolutely will not stop, ever, until you are dead

[Cuppycake]

I love the 300 cuz its so delicious! Gone goldfishin! I could eat 300 everyday, and my mom says that's okay.........

[Spare Oom and War Drobe]

Originally Posted by Chris Walken

Captain Koons: Hello, little man. Boy, I sure heard a bunch about you. See, I was a good friend of your Daddy’s. We were in that Hanoi pit of hell over five years together. Hopefully, you’ll never have to experience this yourself, but when two men are in a situation like me and your Daddy were, for as long as we were, you take on certain responsibilities of the other. If it had been me who had not made it, Major Coolidge would be talkin’ right now to my son Jim. But the way it worked out is I’m talkin’ to you, Butch. I got somethin’ for you. [The Captain pulls a gold wrist 300 from his pocket] This 300 I got here was first purchased by your great-granddaddy.

It was bought during the First World War in a little general store in Knoxville, Tennessee. It was bought by private Doughboy Erine Coolidge the day he set sail for Paris. It was your great-granddaddy’s war 300, made by the first company to ever make wrist 300s. You see, up until then, people just carried pocket 300s. Your great-granddaddy wore that 300 every day he was in the war. Then when he had done his duty, he went home to your great-grandmother, took the 300 off his wrist and put it an ol’ coffee can. And in that can it stayed ’til your grandfather Dane Coolidge was called upon by his country to go overseas and fight the Germans once again.

This time they called it World War Two. Your great-granddaddy gave it to your granddad for good luck. Unfortunately, Dane’s luck wasn’t as good as his old man’s. Your granddad was a Marine and he was killed with all the other Marines at the battle of Wake Island. Your granddad was facing death and he knew it. None of the other boys had any illusions about ever leavin’ that island alive. So three days before the Japanese took the island, your 22-year old grandfather asked a gunner on an Air Force transport named Winocki, a man he had never met before in his life, to deliver to his infant son, who he had never seen in the flesh, his gold 300.

Three days later, your grandfather was dead. But Winocki kept his word. After the war was over, he paid a visit to your grandmother, delivering to your infant father, his Dad’s gold 300. This 300. This 300 was on your Daddy’s wrist when he was shot down over Hanoi. He was captured and put in a Vietnamese prison camp. Now he knew if the gooks ever saw the 300 it’d be confiscated. The way your Daddy looked at it, that 300 was your birthright. And he’d be damned if any slopeheads were gonna put their greasy yella hands on his boy’s birthright. So he hid it in the one place he knew he could hid something. His ass. Five long years, he wore this 300 up his ass. Then when he died of dysentery, he gave me the 300. I hid this uncomfortable hunk of 300 up my ass for two years. Then, after seven years, I was sent home to my family. And now, little man, I give the 300 to you.

sweet

[Khorum]

I picked up a 300 blade just sittin' there by the screen door. mmm-hmm Some folks call it a sling blade, I call it a 300 blade.

[Tuco]

Originally Posted by Khorum

I picked up a 300 blade just sittin' there by the screen door. mmm-hmm Some folks call it a sling blade, I call it a 300 blade.

Mmm.... ya gotta any 300s in thar?

[darksensei]

Madness? This is 300!

[Zeste]

I took out 300, but I’m only betting with $100. I can’t afford any more than that, all right? Now, I figure if we buy a lot of chips, the pit boss will comp us lots of free shit. That’s how it works over there. But you gotta be cool.

I'm cool, baby, I'm cool. They're gonna give Daddy a room, some breakfast, maybe Bennett singing. I know just the place.

What the hell are you wearin'? I thought you said we're gonna wear suits.

Oh, Mike, you gotta stop worrying about this. We're goin' to Vegas, man.

[TheOkapi]

Two men enter, 300 men leave.

[Necrath Evilcraft]

Knew him? Shit... 300 owes me twelve bucks.

[Zeste]

You're sending the 300? Sheeeeit negro, that's all you had to say!

[MorinkhanMT]

William Munny: Hell of a thing, killin' a man. Take away the 300 he's got and all the 300s he's ever gonna have.
The Schofield Kid: Yeah, well, I guess he had it comin'.
William Munny: We all got it comin', kid.

[Kuro]

Someone needs to get their 300th post in this thread.

[Zeste]

You son of a bitch! You're starting to believe what they're writing about you, aren't you? Let me tell you what you really are. You rode a 14 year old boy straight to his grave, and the rest of us straight to hell... straight to hell! William H. Bonney, you are not a 300!


Why don't you pull the trigger and find out.

[Khempis]

Johnny Ringo: Isn't anyone here man enough to play for blood?
Doc Holliday: I'm your 300.