[Chris shuts off the drill, the whine winding down. The hair is caught and tangled in the bit, with blood and skin sticking to the roots. Carefully with his finger off the trigger he sheds the bit from the hair, raising his eyebrows at Slevin.]

You want to see what I've got? Shave and a haircut, two bits? You sad motherfucker.

[He grins at Cassel, before setting his hand on Slevin's forehead and tilting his head down against his shoulder to expose the veins in his neck. Here, he places the silent drill bit against his inmate's cheek]

You want to think about rephrasing?