Mickey ma's caravan (got it?)

Turkish: Well, do you want to do it?
Mickey: That depends.
Turkish: On what?
Mickey: On you buying this caravan. Not the rouge one, the rose.
Turkish: It’s not the same caravan.
Mickey: It’s not the same fight.
Turkish: It’s twice the fucking size of the last one.
Mickey: Turkish, the fight is twice the size. And me ma still needs a caravan. I like to look after me ma. It’s a fair deal. Take it.
Turkish: Mickey, you’re lucky we aren’t worm food after your last performance. Buying a tart’s mobile palace is a little fucking rich.
[Realizes his mistake]
Turkish: I wasn’t calling your mum a tart. I just meant…
Mickey: Ah, save your breath for cooling your porridge. Now, look…
[starts talking incoherently]
Mickey: Right. And she’s terribly partial to the periwinkle blue, boss. Have I made myself clear, lads?
Turkish: Yeah, that’s perfectly clear, Mickey. Just give me one minute to confer with my colleague.
[to Tommy]
Turkish: Did you understand a single word of what he just said?