We'll be immortal.

Tyler: We won't really die. We'll be immortal.

Jack: oor -- ee-ee --uh -- aa-i --

JACK:
With a gun barrel between your teeth, you speak only in vowels.

Tyler: You're thinking of vampires.

JACK:
With my tongue, I can feel the silencer holes drilled into the barrel of the gun. Most of the noise a gunshot makes is expanding gases. I totally forgot about Tyler's whole murder-suicide thing for a second and I wondered how clean the gun barrel was.

Tyler: Three minutes.

JACK:
The building we're standing won't be here in three minutes. You take a 98-percent concentration of fuming nitric acid and add three times as much sulfuric in a bathtub full of ice. Then, glycerin drop-by-drop. Nitroglycerin. I know this because Tyler knows this.
The Demolitions Committee of Project Mayhem wrapped the foundation columns of this building with blasting gelatin. The primary charge will blow the base charge, and this spot Tyler and I are standing on will be a point in the sky.

Tyler: This is our world now. Two minutes.

 JACK:
Two minutes to go and I'm wondering how I got here.

The Fight Club (1999) by David Fincher