Det. Sgt. Eldon Perry Jr.:
Look what descended from the sixth floor, Hey, Jimmy.
James Barcomb:
Jack. How are you holding up, son?
Bobby Keough:
I'm good, sir.
James Barcomb:
You should've seen this kid. He was outstanding. Ever thought about doing a tour with public affairs? We could use a good-looking son of a bitch like you.
Jack Van Meter:
He's a good young cop, Jimmy, and he's mine. Well, I tried.
James Barcomb:
The board voted- In policy, You're off the hook, kid.
Det. Sgt. Eldon Perry Jr.:
There you go.
Jack Van Meter:
Congratulations. Have a cigar.
James Barcomb:
The report will be ready in the morning. You guys can get back into the field. So, the vote... The vote was four to one.
Det. Sgt. Eldon Perry Jr.:
What? Who the fuck pissed backwards, Holland?
James Barcomb:
Affirmatron.
Det. Sgt. Eldon Perry Jr.:
I'd like to see his bald-headed black ass back in a radio car in South Central.
James Barcomb:
We don't need that shit.
Det. Sgt. Eldon Perry Jr.:
He actually said out of policy.
Jack Van Meter:
Holland began contacting outside agencies a month ago. He's doing civil service testing with the city of Cleveland. He's leaving to run their P.D. Didn't hear it from me.
James Barcomb:
Didn't hear it from you.
Det. Sgt. Eldon Perry Jr.:
Fuck Holland. Good riddance. We're gonna have to pin his stars on another brother or the community will go apeshit.
James Barcomb:
Jesus, Eldon, you sound just like your old man.
Jack Van Meter:
It's not such a bad thing, Everything I know-his old man. A toast to Bobby. Right between the eyes.
Bobby Keough:
Thank you, guys. I mean it. Thanks for giving me the chance to prove myself in SlS.
Jack Van Meter:
Eldon, Jimmy has something to tell you.
James Barcomb:
You made lieutenant. You're next on the transfer list.
Det. Sgt. Eldon Perry Jr.:
Fuck you, too, Jimmy.
James Barcomb:
No. We're not pulling your dick.
Det. Sgt. Eldon Perry Jr.:
It's about fucking Time!
Jake Tyler Brigance:
[in his summation, talking about Tonya Hailey] I want to tell you a story. I'm going to ask you all to close your eyes while I tell you the story. I want you to listen to me. I want you to listen to yourselves. Go ahead. Close your eyes, please. This is a story about a little girl walking home from the grocery store one sunny afternoon. I want you to picture this little girl. Suddenly a truck races up. Two men jump out and grab her. They drag her into a nearby field and they tie her up and they rip her clothes from her body. Now they climb on. First one, then the other, raping her, shattering everything innocent and pure with a vicious thrust in a fog of drunken breath and sweat. And when they're done, after they've killed her tiny womb, murdered any chance for her to have children, to have life beyond her own, they decide to use her for target practice. They start throwing full beer cans at her. They throw them so hard that it tears the flesh all the way to her bones. Then they urinate on her. Now comes the hanging. They have a rope. They tie a noose. Imagine the noose going tight around her neck and with a sudden blinding jerk she's pulled into the air and her feet and legs go kicking. They don't find the ground. The hanging branch isn't strong enough. It snaps and she falls back to the earth. So they pick her up, throw her in the back of the truck and drive out to Foggy Creek Bridge. Pitch her over the edge. And she drops some thirty feet down to the creek bottom below. Can you see her? Her raped, beaten, broken body soaked in their urine, soaked in their semen, soaked in her blood, left to die. Can you see her? I want you to picture that little girl. Now imagine she's white.
Capt. Jack Aubrey:
Right lads, now, I know there's not a faint heart among you, and I know you're as anxious as I am to get into close action. But we must bring them right up beside us before we spring this trap. That will test our nerve, and discipline will count just as much as courage. The Acheron is a tough nut to crack... more than twice our guns, more than twice our numbers, and they will sell their lives dearly. Topmen, your handling of the sheets to be lubberly and un-navy like. Until the signal calls, you're to spill the wind from our sails, this will bring us almost to a complete stop. Gun crews, you must run out and tie down in double quick time. With the rear wheels removed, you've gained elevation. and without recoil, there'll be no chance for re-load, so gun captains, that gives you one shot from the lardboard battery... one shot only. You'll fire for her mainmast. Much will depend on your accuracy... however... even crippled, she will still be dangerous, like a wounded beast. Captain Howard and the marines will sweep their weather deck with swivel gun and musket fire from the tops. They'll try and even the odds for us before we board. They mean to take us as a prize. [all chuckling]
Capt. Jack Aubrey:
And we are worth more to them undamaged. Their greed... will be their downfall. England is under threat of invasion, and though we be on the far side of the world, this ship is our home. This ship, is England. So it's every hand to his rope or gun, quick's the word and sharp's the action. After all... surprise is on our side.
Crew:
Huzzah, huzzah!
William Travis:
I have here pieces of paper, letters from politicians and generals, but no indication of when, or if help will arrive. Letters not worth the ink committed to them. I fear that no one is coming. Texas has been a second chance for me. I expect that might be true for many of you as well. It has been a chance not only for land and riches, but also to be a different man. I hope a better one. There have been many ideas brought for in the past few months of what Texas is, and what it should become. We are not all in agreement. But I'd like to ask each of you what it is you value so highly that you are willing to fight and possibly die for. We will call that Texas. The Mexican army hopes to lure us into attempting escape. Almost anything seems better than remaining in this place, penned up. If, however, we force the enemy to attack, I believe every one of you will prove himself worth ten in return. We will not only show the world what patriots are made of, but we will also deal a crippling blow to the army of Santa Anna. If anyone wishes to depart under the white flag of surrender, you may do so now. You have that right. But if you wish to stay here with me in the Alamo, we will sell our lives dearly.
Jasper:
Everything is a mythical, cosmic battle between faith and chance. [offers Miriam a joint]
Miriam:
Maybe I shouldn't.
Jasper:
You already did. Take another one. Now cough. What do you taste?
Miriam:
Strawberries!
Jasper:
Strawberries? That's what it's called: Strawberry Cough!
Kee:
Wicked!
Jasper:
So. You've got faith over here, right? And chance over there.
Miriam:
Like yin and yang.
Jasper:
Sort of.
Miriam:
Or Shiva and Shakti.
Jasper:
Lennon and McCartney!
Kee:
[looking at pictures] Look, Julian and Theo.
Jasper:
Yeah, there you go! Julian and Theo met among a million protestors in a rally by chance. But they were there because of what they believed in in the first place, their faith. They wanted to change the world. And their faith kept them together. But by chance, Dylan was born.
Kee:
[picks up another photo] This is him?
Jasper:
Yeah, that's him. He'd have been about your age. Magical child. Beautiful. Their faith put in praxis.
Miriam:
"Praxis"? What happened?
Jasper:
Chance. He was their sweet little dream. He had little hands, little legs, little feet. Little lungs. And in 2008, along came the flu pandemic. And then, by chance, he was gone. You see, Theo's faith lost out to chance. So, why bother if life's going to make its own choices?
Kee:
Baby's got Theo's eyes.
Jasper:
Yeah.
Miriam:
Oh, boy. That's terrible. But, you know, everything happens for a reason.
Jasper:
That, I don't know. But Theo and Julian would always bring Dylan. He loved it here.
Bob Munro:
Yo, my mobile-homeboys, what's trippin' in the wood?
Hip Hop Wannabe:
This termite belong to you?
Bob Munro:
Yo, my man said...
Carl Munro:
[gets mad] Don't call him...
Bob Munro:
[restraints Carl] Easy! This my man C, he small but ferocious, but you dogs, you hardcore, where you from?
Hip Hop Wannabe:
Scottsdale!
Bob Munro:
Scottsdale! In the zoner, ya'll that's a hardcore hood, but you want take on my man C here, go ahead because you know, he's fierce, he gonna come up in your face he gonna major damage you, you gonna walk away maybe limp but I say talk to the hand, call waiting, 'cause he's out, boy is ou... I can't restrains him 'cause I'm conversatin' you right now to give him a chance to cool down, to get back to a realistic level, as it were because we could be chillin' in our crib, not just on this mobile home thing, representing Malibu, and Westwood, you know. Mallin' it like we all can, boys to mensh, pimp my Mercedes, call me back, put you on hold, you know what I'm sayin'?
Hip Hop Wannabe:
Er... we gotta go. [leaves]
Bob Munro:
Mm-hmm, you better, man, don't make me call my lawyer, 'cause I'll audit!
Brian Gamble:
[Mumbling under his breath to Street] This is total bullshit.
Capt. Thomas Fuller:
What?
Brian Gamble:
[Raising his voice to Fuller] I said this is bullshit.
Capt. Thomas Fuller:
Really.
Brian Gamble:
Yeah, really.
Capt. Thomas Fuller:
You should consider yourself lucky Lieutenant Velazquez is standing up for you.
Brian Gamble:
[Looks back at Velazquez and walks towards Fuller] No. I'm lucky I don't have to work for an asshole like you. [Shoves a few things off of Fuller's desk and pushes him back]
Capt. Thomas Fuller:
[shouting over Gamble] That's it, you're outta here, Gamble, you're gone, Gamble, you're gone! [Gamble is pushed out of the office]
Capt. Thomas Fuller:
Street, Street, stay.
Street:
[to Gamble] Hey!
Capt. Thomas Fuller:
Give us a minute. [the rest of the cops leave]
Capt. Thomas Fuller:
Jim, sit down.
Street:
I'll Stand.
Capt. Thomas Fuller:
Okay, [Sits down]
Capt. Thomas Fuller:
Jim, be both know that Gamble is a bad influence on the rest of the team.
Street:
Gamble's a good cop.
Capt. Thomas Fuller:
Unlike him, you still have a chance ata future here. You'll go on record by following after Gamble recklessly. But you had no choice but to follow your partner after he disobeyed orders, and I'll make sure you're back on SWAT tomorrow morning.
Captain Dudley Smith:
Edmund, you're a political animal. You have the eye for human weakness, but not the stomach.
Ed Exley:
You're wrong, sir.
Captain Dudley Smith:
Would you be willing to plant corroborative evidence on a suspect you knew to be guilty, in order to ensure an indictment?
Ed Exley:
Dudley, we've been over this.
Captain Dudley Smith:
Yes or no, Edmund?
Ed Exley:
No!
Captain Dudley Smith:
Would you be willing to beat a confession out of a suspect you knew to be guilty?
Ed Exley:
No.
Captain Dudley Smith:
Would you be willing to shoot a hardened criminal in the back, in order to offset the chance that some... lawyer...
Ed Exley:
No.
Captain Dudley Smith:
Then, for the love of God, don't be a detective. Stick to assignments where you don't have...
Ed Exley:
Dudley, I know you mean well, but I don't need to do it the way you did. Or my father.
Kratos:
[strides out of his ship] Ten years, Athena! I have faithfully served the gods for ten years! When will you leave me of these nightmares?
Athena:
We have one final task of you, Kratos. Your greatest challenge awaits in Athens; where even now, my brother: Ares, lays siege, as we speak. Athens is on the verge of destruction. It is the will of Ares my great city fall. Zues has forbidden the gods from waging war on each other. That is why it must be you, Kratos. Only a mortal trained by a god has a chance at defeating Ares.
Kratos:
And if I am able to do this; to kill a god, then the visions: they will end?
Athena:
Complete this final task, and the past that consumes you will be forgiven. Have faith, Kratos, the gods do not forget those who come to their aid.
Narrator:
Leaving the rotting carcass of the hydra behind, Kratos set sail once more. His greatest challenge, and freedom from his growing madness lay before him, in the ancient city, of Athens.
Sayuri Nitta:
[turns to see the Chairman standing in front of her] Chairman, where is Nobu-san?
Chairman:
He won't be coming.
Sayuri Nitta:
Is something wrong?
Chairman:
He knows what happened. It is not in his nature to forgive.
Sayuri Nitta:
Chairman, what happened on the island...
Chairman:
Please, you don't have to explain.
Sayuri Nitta:
But I have shamed myself so deeply, past all forgiveness.
Chairman:
No! I'm the one who must be forgiven.
Sayuri Nitta:
I do not understand.
Chairman:
Perhaps... if you had only known the truth.
Sayuri Nitta:
The truth?
Chairman:
Some years ago, I was on my way to the theater. I saw a little girl weeping by the Sunagawa. I stopped to buy her a cup of sweet ice.
Sayuri Nitta:
You knew I was that little girl?
Chairman:
Didn't you ever wonder why Mameha took you under her wing?
Sayuri Nitta:
Mameha came to me because of you?... I wish you could have told me long ago. [turns her back to him]
Chairman:
What could I do? I owe Nobu my life. And so when I saw that he had a chance at happiness with you, I stood silent, but... But I cannot any longer. I hope... it is not too late. Don't be afraid to look at me, Chiyo.
Sayuri Nitta:
[turns around to face him again] Can't you see? Every step I have taken, since I was that child on the bridge, has been to bring myself closer to you. [finally kiss and embrace, cries in his arms]
Carter Webb:
I've been trying to write this letter for a while now, the kind you said you'd never received. The kind I've been working on my whole life. I remember being 13 years old, sitting in my room all night, listening to the same song over and over. I thought that if I could write something beautiful, something honest, I could make someone love me. I've taken a lot for granted. I've never tried too hard; always avoided responsibility. I came here because I was running away, 'cause I wanted to be alone. Instead I met you and you weren't taking anything for granted. I hope you get all the moments you deserve. I hope you go back to NY and sit in the met in the room with the painting of the Hudson river, and I hope when you do, you take Lucy with you cause I know she'd love it. I'm sorry if I've made your life complicated. I'm sorry for a lot of things, but most of all that I never got the chance to tell you that, no matter what happens next, I'll never be anything but grateful for every moment I spent with you. And even though I keep fumbling for the right words, all I really wanted to say was thank you.
Host:
Something happened in the world that was a bright piece of hope for man. Such a thing occurs every few hundred, or a thousand years. Some genius rises, and man takes a new step toward a better life, a better culture. There is a difference with Dianetics and Scientology. *It* has *never* happened before, in all the countless years of time. In this brief moment, we have our temporary chance for handling and continuing life. Clouds loom over this culture and planet. In this short interval, in this one place, we have our freedom before us. We *can* arise above the decay - the final flash that will inevitably extinguish this planet. It is not our mission to save it. It is our mission to free you. You are an immortal being. Your life will not halt because this planet halts. You can go on. Now we could play this very low-key. We could sort of giggle and say, "We can help you a little to lead a slightly happier life." Yes, we could say that. Stating that, if you cooperated, we could make you more cheerful. But that would be like offering someone a diamond, and saying it was glass. Right this instant, you are at the threshold of your next trillion years. You will live it in shivering agonized darkness, or you will live it triumphantly in the light; the choice is yours, not ours. If you, this minute, say, "I will, for better or for worse, go on in Scientology," you will open the door to your own future. If you say otherwise, you slam tomorrow shut in your own face. I'm sorry, but that's the way it really is.
