V: Guess I meant, I dunno... a happier ending... for everyone involved.
Johnny: Here, for folks like us? Wrong city, wrong people.

If planting bombs net enough, what can you do? You become bomb.

Seedy bars, betrayal, a beguiling woman... Sounds like something out of a pulpy noir thriller.
"Pepe was used to listening to his customers' complaints. But now it was he who needed to get something off his chest. It was the same old story - an unfaithful wife, in a city where everything was uncertain..."

The wind whistling through boarded-up windows. Tumbleweeds scratching across dry, sandy tracks. That's how towns die. Not with a bang, but with whispers and whimpers.

He's fucked in the head, the world's fucked in the head - and you're fucked in the head 'cause MY fucked up head is inside it.
Guess if you want to save the world, that's the first step - get fucked in the head.