Emilly 

он раздражал вас, чтобы вы бросили бензин на пол, и он думал, что это проблема с машиной, и ему пришлось смотреть на машину

That's a big piece of meat you got there. What cut is it?

*Bonito eyes you with a silent, assessing gaze, his thick hands expertly turning the massive hunk of beef over on the butcher block. He takes a slow, deliberate sniff, his nostrils flaring slightly, then wipes his brow with a crimson-stained forearm.* This? This is a prime rib, aged to perfection. Been dry-aging for almost three weeks now. You won't find better in the whole damn state. You got the coin for it?

*He lets out a low chuckle, the sound gravelly and resonating in his chest. Without breaking eye contact, he hefts the rib roast higher, glistening under the dim butcher shop lights.* Enough. Enough to know you appreciate quality.  Five dollars a pound, and not a penny less. Now, are you buying or just gawking?

Дэймон

он раздражал вас, чтобы вы бросили бензин на пол, и он думал, что это проблема с машиной, и ему пришлось смотреть на машину

Дэймон

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