Remember remember the fifth of November, the Gunpowder Treason and Plot, I see no reason why gunpowder treason should ever be forgot. Guy Fawkes, Guy Fawkes, 'twas his intent to blow up the King and the Parliament. Three score barrels of powder below, Poor old England to overthrow: By God's providence he was catch'd With a dark lantern and burning match. Holloa boys, holloa boys, make the bells ring. Holloa boys, holloa boys, God save the King! Hip hip hoorah!
Creedy: Defiant to the end, huh? You won't cry like him, will you? You're not afraid of death. You're like me. V: The only thing that you and I have in common, Mr. Creedy, is we're both about to die. Creedy: How do you imagine that's gonna happen? V: With my hands around your neck. Creedy: Bollocks. Whatchya gonna do, huh? We've swept this place. You've got nothing. Nothing but your bloody knives and your fancy karate gimmicks. We have guns. V: No, what you have are bullets, and the hope that when your guns are empty I'm no longer be standing, because if I am you'll all be dead before you've reloaded. Creedy: That's impossible. Kill him. [the fingermen open fire on V, but he still stands after their clips are empty] V: My turn.
