From the awesome James Bond reboot Casino Royale starring Daniel Craig.
Le Chiffre: You know, I've never understood all these elaborate tortures. It's the simplest thing, to cause more pain than a man can endure...
[Le Chiffre swings knotted rope into Bond's genitals; Bond groans]
...and of course, it's not only the immediate agony, but the knowledge that if you do not yield soon enough, there will be little left to identify you as man.
[he slaps Bonds face]
...The only question remains: Will you yield... in time? I want the money.
[he swings rope again; Bond screams]
...Miss. Lynd will give me the account number, if she hasn't already, so, all I need from you is the password.
[Bond looks at Le Chiffre]
...The password, please.
James Bond: I've got a little itch, down there. Would you mind?
[Le Chiffre swings again]
...No! No! No, no, no, to the right. To the right, to the right!
Le Chiffre: You are a funny man, Mr. Bond.
[he swings again]
James Bond: Aaagh!! Yeah! Yeah, yeah. Yes, yes, yes, yes. [sobs then laughs] Now the whole world's gonna know you died scratching my balls.
Le Chiffre: Er, I died? I died?
James Bond: Yes, 'cause no matter what you do, I'm not gonna give you the password. Which means, your clients are gonna hunt you down and cut you into little pieces of meat while you're still breathing. Because if you kill me, there'll be no-where else to hide.
Le Chiffre: But, you are [shouts] so wrong. Because, even after I've slaughtered you and your little girlfriend, your people will still welcome me with open arms. Because they need... what I know.
James Bond: The big picture.
[Vesper screams in distance]
Le Chiffre: Give me the password, and I will at least let her live.
[slaps Bond]
..Come on, do it soon enough and she might even be in one piece.
[Bond laughs]
...You really aren't going to tell me, are you?
James Bond: No.
Le Chiffre: So, I think...
[kicks Bond, still tied to the chair, backwards; Bond lands on his back; Le Chiffre pulls out a knife]
...I'll feed you, what you seem not to value.
[gunshots and screaming]
[Mr. White enters, pointing a gun at Le Chiffre]
Le Chiffre: I'll get the money, tell them, I'll get the money.
Mr. White: Money isn't as valuable to our organisation as knowing who to trust.
[Mr. White shoots; Le Chiffre falls, a bullet hole in the forehead]
Mr. White: Hello.
James Bond: [through phone] Mr. White? We need to talk.
Mr. White: Who is this?
[White is shot through leg; he drags himself to the front steps of his house; Bond appears and stands over him holding a silenced UMP .45.]
James Bond: The name's Bond...James Bond.
James Bond: Vodka Martini.
Bartender: Shaken or stirred?
James Bond: Do I look like I give a damn?
