V:
[Disguised as William Rookwood, meeting with Inspector Finch] Our story begins, as these stories often do, with a young up-and-coming politician. He's a deeply religious man and a member of the conservative party. He is completely single-minded convictions and has no regard for the political process. Eventually, his party launches a special project in the name of 'national security'. At first, it is believed to be a search for biological weapons and it is pursued regardless of its cost. However, the true goal of the project is power, complete and total hegemonic domination. The project, however, ends violently... but the efforts of those involved are not in vain, for a new ability to wage war is born from the blood of one of their victims. Imagine a virus - the most terrifying virus you can, and then imagine that you and you alone have the cure. But if your ultimate goal is power, how best to use such a weapon? It is at this point in our story that along comes a spider. He is a man seemingly without a conscience; for whom the ends always justify the means and it is he who suggests that their target should not be an enemy of the country but rather the country itself. Three targets are chosen to maximize the effect of the attack: a school, a tube station, and a water-treatment plant. Several hundred die within the first few weeks. Until at last the true goal comes into view. Before the St. Mary's crisis, no one would have predicted the outcome of the elections. No one. But after the election, lo and behold, a miracle. Some believed that it was the work of God himself, but it was a pharmaceutical company controlled by certain party members made them all obscenely rich. But the true genius of the plan was the fear. A year later, several extremeists are tried, found guilty, and executed while a memorial is builterected to canonize their victims. Fear became the ultimate tool of this government. And through it our politician was ultimately appointed to the newly created position of High Chancellor. The rest, as they say, is history.
Finch:
Can you prove any of this?
V:
Why do you think I'm still alive?
Finch:
Right. We'd like to take you into protective custody, Mr. Rookwood.
V:
Oh, I'm sure you would. But if you want that recording, you'll do what I tell you to do. Put Creedy under 24 hour surveillance. When I feel safe that he can't pick his nose without you knowing, I'll contact you again. Until then, cheerio.
Finch:
Rookwood. Why didn't you come forward earlier? What were you waiting for?
V:
For you, Inspector. I needed you.
Jonathan Reeves:
[waves to sit down]
Jody Sawyer:
Wait. All my life I've wanted to be one of ABC's perfect ballerinas. I wanted to be you, Juliette. But I'm not you, and I'm not perfect,I'm just me, bad feet and all, and I'm starting to think that I like that just as much.
Jonathan Reeves:
[begins to speak]
Jody Sawyer:
No, because if you're not going to offer me a place in the company I don't want to hear it. And if you are, I might not have the strength to say no, and then I would be spending my best dancing years in the back of a corps waving a rose back and forth, and I'm better than that. So thank you, Jonathan, for turning me into the best dancer I can be, I appreciate it more than I can say, really. Because the best dancer I can be is a principal in Cooper Neilson's new company.
Jody Sawyer:
[walks off]
Bartleby:
You are responsible for raising an icon which draws worship from the Lord. You have broken the first commandment. Not only that, I'm afraid not a one of you passes for a decent human being. Your continued existence is a mockery of morality. Like you, Mr. Burton. Last year cheated on your wife of 17 years 8 times. You even had sex with her best friend while you were supposed to be home watching the kids.
Loki:
In the bed that you and your wife share, no less.
Bartleby:
Mr. Newman - you got your girlfriend drunk at last year's Christmas party and then paid a kid from the mail room to have sex with her while she was passed out, just so you could break up with her guilt-free when she sobbingly confessed in the morning. She killed herself two months later. Mr. Brace disowned his gay son. Very compassionate, Mr. Brace. Mr. Ray put his mother in a third-rate nursing home and then used the profits from the sale of her home to buy an oriental rug for himself. Heavens. Mr. Barker flew to Thailand on the company account to have sex with an eleven year old boy. Mr. Holtzman okayed the production of Mooby Dolls from materials he knew to be toxic and unsafe, because it was - survey says? - less costly. [sees the female board member]
Bartleby:
You, on the other hand, are an innocent. You lead a good life. Good for you. But you, Mr. Whitland, you have more skeletons in your closet than the rest of this assembled party. I cannot even mention them aloud. [whispers something in Whitland's ear]
Loki:
You're his father, you sick fuck. [Whitland starts crying]
Board Member 1:
He could have opened the window.
Board Member 2:
Waring Hudsucker never did anything the easy way.
Board Member 3:
(weeping) Why? Why did he do it? Everything was going so well
Sidney J. Mussburger:
What am I, a head shriker. Maybe the man was unhappy?
Board Member 3:
He didn't look unhappy.
Board Member 4:
He didn't look rich.
Board Member 5:
Waring Hudsucker was never an easy man to figure out. He built this company with his bare hands, every step he took was a step up, except of course this last one.
Sidney J. Mussburger:
Sure, sure he was a swell fella, but when the president, chairman of the board and owner of 87% of the company stock drops 44 floors...
Board Member 6:
45.
Board Member 7:
Counting the mezzanine.
Sidney J. Mussburger:
...then the company too has a problem. What exactly is the disposition of Waring's stock.
Board Member 8:
Well as you know, Hud left no will and had no family; the company bylaws are quite clear in that event. His entire portfolio will be converted into common stock and be sold over the counter as of the first of the fiscal year following his demise.
Sidney J. Mussburger:
Meaning?
Board Member 8:
Well, meaning simply that Waring stock, and control of the company, will be made available to the public January first.
Sidney J. Mussburger:
Do you mean to say any slob in a smelly tee-shirt will be able to buy Hudsucker stock?
Board Member 8:
The company bylaws are quite clear.
Board Member 3:
My God, you're animals. How can you discuss his stock when the man has just leapt 45 floors?
Board Member 6:
44.
Board Member 7:
Not counting the mezzanine.
Sidney J. Mussburger:
Quit showboating Addison, the man is gone. The question now is whether we're going to let John Q Public just waltz in here and buy our company.
Board Member 4:
What are you suggesting Sidney? Certainly we can't afford to buy an controlling interest.
Sidney J. Mussburger:
Not while the stock is this strong. How soon before Hud's paper hits the market?
Board Member 8:
January 1st.
Board Member 2:
30 days.
Board Member 4:
4 weeks.
Board Member 5:
A month at the most!
Sidney J. Mussburger:
One month; to make the blue chip investment of the century look like a round trip ticket on the titanic.
Board Member 7:
We play up the fact that Hud is dead.
All:
Long live Hud!
Board Member 4:
We depress the stock,
Board Member 5:
To the point where we can buy 50%,
Board Member 6:
51,
Board Member 7:
Not counting the mezzanine.
Sidney J. Mussburger:
It could work.
Board Member 3:
It should work.
Board Member 4:
It would work.
Sidney J. Mussburger:
It's working already. Waring Hudsucker is abstract art on Madison Avenue. What we need now is a new president who will inspire panic in the stockholder.
Board Member 6:
A puppet.
Board Member 5:
A proxy.
Board Member 2:
A pawn.
Sidney J. Mussburger:
Sure, sure. Some jerk we can really push around.
[Linda Peeno speaking before Congress]
Linda Peeno:
My name is Linda Peeno. I am here primarily today to make a public confession: In the Spring of 1987, as a physician, I denied a man a necessary operation that would of saved his life, and thus caused his death. No person, and no group has held me accountable for this, because in fact, what I did was I saved a company a half a million dollars for this. And for the more, this particular act secured my reputation as a good medical director, and it insured my continued advancement in the health care field. I went from making a few hundred dollars a week as a medical reviewer, to an escalating six-figure income as a physician executive. In all my work, I had one primary duty, and that was to use my medical expertise for the financial benefit for the organization which I worked. And I was told repeatedly that I was not denying care, I was simply denying payment. I know how managed care maims and kills patients. So I am here to tell you about the dirty work of managed care. And I'm haunted by the thousands of pieces of paper in which I have written that deadly word - "denied".
[last lines]
Morgan Spurlock:
[voiceover] Still, the impact of this lawsuit is being seen far and wide. School districts in New York, Texas, and San Francisco have banned sugary soft drinks in schools. And all-natural healthy options are popping up everywhere. McDonald's joined right in, sponsoring events that showed how health-conscious they've become, and creating a new line of premium salads. At the same time, however, they also masterminded one of their fattest sandwiches to date: the McGriddle. A pancake-wrapped creation that won my heart in Texas, but can pack as much fat as a Big Mac, and have more sugar than a pack of McDonaldland cookies. In fact, their new premium ranch chicken salad with dressing delivers more calories than a Big Mac and 51 grams of fat, 79% of your daily fat intake. Over the course of my McDiet, I consumed 30 pounds of sugar from their food. That's a pound a day. On top of that, I also took in 12 pounds of fat. Now, I know what you're saying. You're saying nobody's supposed to eat this food three times a day. No wonder all this stuff happened to you. But the scary part is: there are people who eat this food regularly. Some people even eat it every day. So, while my experiment may have been a little extreme, it's not that crazy. But here is a crazy idea: Why not do away with your Super Size options? Who needs 42 ounces of Coke? A half pound of fries? And why not give me a choice besides french fries or french fries? That would be a great start. But why should these companies want to change? Their loyalty isn't to you, it's to the stockholders. The bottom line: They're a business, no matter what they say. And by selling you unhealthy food, they make millions. And no company wants to stop doing that. If this ever-growing paradigm is going to shift, it's up to you. But if you decide to keep living this way, go ahead. Over time, you may find yourself getting as sick as I did. And you may wind up here [emergency room]
Morgan Spurlock:
or here [cemetery]
Morgan Spurlock:
. I guess the big question is, who do you want to see go first? You? Or them?
[first lines]
Lestat:
[voiceover] There comes a time for every vampire when the idea of eternity becomes momentarily unbearable. Living in the shadows, feeding in the darkness with only your own company to keep, rots into a solitary, hollow existence. Immortality seems like a good idea, until you realize you're going to spend it alone. So I went to sleep, hoping that the sounds of the passing eras would fade out, and a sort of death might happen. But as I lay there, the world didn't sound like the place I had left, but something different. [rock music begins]
Lestat:
Better. It became worthwhile to rise again as new gods were born and worshipped. Night and day, they were never alone. I would become one of them. [feeds]
Lestat:
Whether it was that first meal, or a hundred years of rest, I'm not sure. But suddenly I was feeling better than ever. My senses so high they led me straight to the instrument of my resurrection, playing in my old house.
Theoden:
Eomer. Take your Èored down the left flank. Gamling, follow the King's banner down the center. Grimbold, take your company right, after you pass the wall. Forth, and fear no darkness! Arise! Arise, Riders of Theoden! Spears shall be shaken, shields shall be splintered! A sword day... a red day... ere the sun rises!
Eowyn:
[to Merry] What ever happens, stay with me. I'll look after you. [the King rides past his men, hitting their spears with his sword as he goes]
Theoden:
Ride now!... Ride now!... Ride! Ride to ruin and the world's ending! [He stops and faces Sauron's army]
Theoden:
Death!
Rohirrim:
[echoing] Death!
Theoden:
Death!
Rohirrim:
[echoing] Death!
Theoden:
DEATH!
Eowyn, Merry:
Death!
Theoden:
Forth, Eorlingas!
Alice Kramden:
Hi, how can I help you today?
William Davis:
Yes, uh, Alice, I would like an egg-white omelette, and if I could get a clean glass of water.
Alice Kramden:
Well, precious, we don't separate our eggs here and that's about as clean as it's gonna get.
William Davis:
Well, what do you have that's similar to an egg-white omelette?
Alice Kramden:
Eggs.
William Davis:
Well then, by all means why don't you just bring me whatevers convenient for you.
Trixie Norton:
Do I need to take of my heels?
Alice Kramden:
No, no. Not yet.
William Davis:
I've angered you, I'm sorry. It happens alot.
Alice Kramden:
Oh, hi Miss Benvenuti. How are you?
Miss Benvenuti:
I'm fine. Hi Trixie.
William Davis:
Ah, Miss Benvenuti, what a pleasure. Please [gestures for her to sit]
Miss Benvenuti:
If you'd just buy my house, that will be pleasure enough.
Alice Kramden:
Oh, Miss Benvenuti, you're selling that cute little duplex over on Hart Street?
Miss Benvenuti:
Yes, I can't take the winters anymore. Mr. Davis here and his company are thinking of buying the house.
William Davis:
Yes, we are. So if you girls could just go and cook something...
Trixie Norton:
Ignoring you!
Alice Kramden:
Yeah, I wish we would've known because we've been looking to buy a duplex for years.
William Davis:
Well, I'm sorry, but my company's already buying this one.
Trixie Norton:
Yes, well, we're not a company or anything, but we would like a nice place to move into with our husbands, have a few little babies, a little Trixie.
Alice Kramden:
But everything's so expensive nowadays!
William Davis:
Yes, it is. Kinda wishing you hadn't dropped out of high school right about now, huh?
Alice Kramden:
*Still* ignoring you! So Miss Benvenuti, how much are you asking for the duplex?
Fletcher:
[Fletcher is trying to convince Greta to believe her about Max's wish] You don't believe me, do you?
Greta:
Of course not.
Fletcher:
[laughs dryly] How ironic. Okay, ask me something you think I would normally lie about.
Greta:
Alright. Remember, a few months ago, when I wanted a raise,
Fletcher:
Forget it. I don't wanna do this!
Greta:
and the company wouldn't give me one,
Fletcher:
GRETA, PLEASE!
Greta:
so you said you wanted to give me one out of your own pocket, but it would create jealously among the other secretaries. Now, was that true, or did you just not want to pony up the dough? [Fletcher is speechless. Scene cuts to Greta packing her belongings]
Martin Q. Blank:
What about you? Joined the force, huh?
Terry Rostand:
Oh no, I'm not a peace officer. Yeah, this badge isn't a meaninful symbol. We don't enforce the law, we just execute company policy for homeowners.
Martin Q. Blank:
Oh, right... you mind talking a little shop?
Terry Rostand:
Sure.
Martin Q. Blank:
When are you authorized to use deadly force?
Terry Rostand:
Oh well, you know, taxes provide your basic services, you know, police and whatnot, but our customers, they need a little bit more than that, so we catch you on the property, we do what we have to do.
Martin Q. Blank:
So, if I just look suspicious on your customers' property - under those, you know, "heightened circumstances" - you have the authority to shoot me?
Terry Rostand:
Correct.
Martin Q. Blank:
Wow, all right. How'd you get the gig?
Terry Rostand:
Oh, well, they were hiring. And it was only a two-week course.
Desk Manager:
73 minutes to deliver to suitcases and 1 garment bag. do you have an explination Mr. Washington?
Joey:
Yes sir, I seem to be developing tunnel carpel syndrome in my wrist, I believe it's from carrying, really heavy garment bags around, now, I don't want to go on disability, and sue this company for millions of dollars, so I figured I would just pace myself.
Desk Manager:
Mr. Washington, everything you do... irritates me.
Joey:
I'm gonna go soak my wrists.
Desk Manager:
Can I help you sir?
Haru:
Yes, I am looking for a Sally Jones
Desk Manager:
I'm sorry, I don't see anyone by that name in my computer, so if you will excuse me.
Haru:
I would like to rent one of your lodgings, is the cost great?
Desk Manager:
Compared to what? I hut and a rice patty. Sir, we are a five star hotel, with 600 rooms, booked 6 months in advance.
Haru:
I have money.
Desk Manager:
I'm sure you do, but unfortunately, we don't take Wompum.
Haru:
Do you perhaps, perhaps take Gold? [pours out about 15 pieces of gold]
Desk Manager:
Front! Perhaps I shall send Dom Perignon to your room?
Haru:
I prefer to be alone tonight, perhaps later I will meet your friend Don.
Desk Manager:
1A
Joey:
1A. Ooww, my wrists. What have you got in here man, car radios?
Plainview:
You're not the chosen brother, Eli. It was Paul who was chosen. You see, he found me and told me about your land. You're just a fool.
Eli Sunday:
Why are you talking about Paul? Don't say this to me.
Plainview:
I did what your brother couldn't. I broke you and I beat you. It was Paul who told me about you. He's the prophet. He's the smart one. He knew what was there and he found me to take it out of the ground, and you know what the funny thing is? Listen... listen... listen... I paid him ten thousand dollars, cash in hand, just like that. He has his own company now. A prosperous little business. Three wells producing. Five thousand dollars a week. [Eli cries]
Plainview:
Stop crying, you sniveling ass! Stop your nonsense. You're just the afterbirth, Eli.
Eli Sunday:
No...
Plainview:
You slithered out of your mother's filth.
Eli Sunday:
No.
Plainview:
They should have put you in a glass jar on a mantlepiece. Where were you when Paul was suckling at your mother's teat? Where were you? Who was nursing you, poor Eli- one of Bandy's sows? That land has been had. Nothing you can do about it. It's gone. It's had. You lose.
Eli Sunday:
If you would just take this lease, Daniel...
Plainview:
Drainage! Drainage, Eli, you boy. Drained dry. I'm so sorry. Here, if you have a milkshake, and I have a milkshake, and I have a straw. There it is, that's a straw, you see? You watching?. And my straw reaches acroooooooss the room, and starts to drink your milkshake... I... drink... your... milkshake! [sucking sound]
Plainview:
I drink it up!
Eli Sunday:
Don't bully me, Daniel! [Daniel roars and throws Eli across the room]
Plainview:
Did you think your song and dance and your superstition would help you, Eli? I am the Third Revelation! I am who the Lord has chosen!
Claire Cleary:
So is it just about the money?
John Beckwith:
No no, it's about, uh, investing in companies that are ethically and morally defensible.
Sack Lodge:
Well, like what? Give me an example.
John Beckwith:
Like what? Well, there's the company that we have where we're taking the, the fur or the wool from sheep and we turn it into thread for homeless people to sew. And then they make it into cloth, which they in turn sew, then um... make little shirts and pants for other homeless people to sell. It's a pretty good deal.
Jeremy Grey:
[fumbling his words because Gloria is giving him a hand job under the dinner table] People - People helping people.
Claire Cleary:
That's - that's very admirable.
John Beckwith:
Thank you. Although, don't make me out to be a saint just yet. We do turn a small profit. After all, someone has to pay for the, uh, [motions to Jeremy]
John Beckwith:
Lap dancers for the big guy here.
Jeremy Grey:
[laughing pleasurably] Oh, ha ha ha, he's joking around. It feels so good when he jokes.
Car Jacking Girl:
[knocks on Frank's car door] I'm sorry, can you help me? My tire.
Frank Martin:
Sorry, I have an appointment, I don't like to be late.
Car Jacking Girl:
Well, would you rather be late or *dead*? [points a gun at Frank]
Frank Martin:
You don't want to do this.
Car Jacking Girl:
Step out of the car! [Frank steps out, the car jackers run over]
Car Jacker:
Whoo! Let's go, girls! Yeah!
Frank Martin:
Take it easy, the car's brand new.
Car Jacker:
[enters car] No problem, buddy, I got this. Baby, let's ride. Time to go!
Frank Martin:
Your parents know the company you keep?
Car Jacking Girl:
Shut up!
Car Jacker:
[unable to start the engine] This shit ain't working, man!
Frank Martin:
It's coded.
Car Jacker:
What's the code?
Frank Martin:
Can't tell you that.
Car Jacker:
Then we'll have to beat it out of you. Get out of the car!
General Hummel:
Remember Operation Desert Storm? Those surgical hits made by our smart bombs that were covered so well on CNN? It was my men on the ground that made those hits possible by lazing the targets. Twenty of those men were left to rot outside Baghdad after the conflict ended. No benefits were payed to their families. No medals conferred. These men died for their country and they weren't even given a goddamn military burial. This situation is unacceptable. You will transfer one hundred million dollars from Grand Cayman Red Sea trading company to an account I designate. From these funds, one million dollars will be paid to each of the eighty-three marines' families. The rest of the funds, I will disperse at my discretion. Do I make myself clear?
Womack:
Except for the Red Sea Trading Company. What is that?
General Hummel:
Identify yourself.
Womack:
This is FBI Director Womack, General.
General Hummel:
It's a slush-fund where the Pentagon keeps proceeds from illeagal arms deals...
General Al Kramer:
Jesus, Frank, this is classified information!
General Hummel:
You alert the media, I launch the gas. You refuse payment, I launch the gas. You've got forty hours, until noon, day after tomorrow, to arrange transfer of the money. I am aware of your countermeasure. You know and I know it doesn't stand a chance. Hummel from Alcatraz, out.
