Jean Roqua:
[Jake is considering going to the Beatdown] Do this and you can never come back in my gym again. I let you get away with it once, not twice.
Jake Tyler:
Wait! You think this is what I want? To never train with you again? Just to give some asshole the show that he's looking for?
Jean Roqua:
Then stop! Let it go.
Jake Tyler:
The night my dad died, I just let him drive. I didn't even try to stop him. Doing nothing has consequences too.
Jean Roqua:
You cannot live in the past, my friend.
Jake Tyler:
Really? If you could go back, and stop the guy who shot your brother.
Jean Roqua:
Don't push me.
Jake Tyler:
I know you would've fought that guy. I know...
Jean Roqua:
You know nothing! Seven years. Seven years, I've not seen my family. My friends. And every day, like the day before, I wake up, wash my face, look myself in the mirror, disgusted.
Jake Tyler:
Why not go back?
Jean Roqua:
And face my father? The last time he spoke to me, he said both of his sons died that night.
Jake Tyler:
Well if that's what you believe, then he was right. You gave up. Sometimes fighting the fight means that you have to do the one thing you don't want to do. You have to fight for his forgiveness. You can't just hide here forever. At least I can't. I'm gonna stop this guy. Win, lose, it makes no difference. It ends tonight. This is my fight. Everyone's got one.
Jean Roqua:
Jake, no matter what happens, control the outcome. It's on you.
Jake Tyler:
Always has been.
Dean:
Jonathan Trager, prominent television producer for ESPN, died last night from complications of losing his soul mate and his fiancee. He was 35 years old. Soft-spoken and obsessive, Trager never looked the part of a hopeless romantic. But, in the final days of his life, he revealed an unknown side of his psyche. This hidden quasi-Jungian persona surfaced during the Agatha Christie-like pursuit of his long reputed soul mate, a woman whom he only spent a few precious hours with. Sadly, the protracted search ended late Saturday night in complete and utter failure. Yet even in certain defeat, the courageous Trager secretly clung to the belief that life is not merely a series of meaningless accidents or coincidences. Uh-uh. But rather, its a tapestry of events that culminate in an exquisite, sublime plan. Asked about the loss of his dear friend, Dean Kansky, the Pulitzer Prize-winning author and executive editor of the New York Times, described Jonathan as a changed man in the last days of his life. "Things were clearer for him," Kansky noted. Ultimately Jonathan concluded that if we are to live life in harmony with the universe, we must all possess a powerful faith in what the ancients used to call "fatum", what we currently refer to as destiny.
Clyde Shelton:
[in court, laughing and clapping after judge grant bail, after his charade] Thank you.
Judge Laura Burch:
Excuse me?
Clyde Shelton:
No, I don't think I will excuse you. You see, this is what I'm talking about. You were about to let me go. Are you kidding me? This is why we're here in the first place. You think I don't remember who you are, lady?
Judge Laura Burch:
I would tread carefully, Mr. Shelton.
Clyde Shelton:
Well, how carefully should I tread? Because apparently I just killed two people, and you were about to let me walk right out that door! How MISGUIDED are you? I feed you a couple of bullshit legal precedents, and there you go - you jump on it like a bitch in heat. Folks, you all hang out...
Judge Laura Burch:
[nervously starts pounding with gavel on a sounding block] I'm warning you, Mr. Shelton!
Clyde Shelton:
...in the same little club...
Judge Laura Burch:
You will be held in contempt!
Clyde Shelton:
...and every day you let madmen and murderers back on the street. You're too busy treating the law...
Judge Laura Burch:
[keeps pounding] One more time!
Clyde Shelton:
...like it's a fucking assembly line!
Judge Laura Burch:
One more time.
Clyde Shelton:
Do you have any idea what justice is?
Judge Laura Burch:
You are now...
Clyde Shelton:
Whatever happened to right and wrong?
Judge Laura Burch:
...in contempt of court.
Clyde Shelton:
Whatever happened to right and wrong?
Judge Laura Burch:
Remove this man.
Clyde Shelton:
Whatever happened to the people?
Judge Laura Burch:
Bail denied!
Clyde Shelton:
Whatever happened to justice?
Judge Laura Burch:
Bail denied!
Clyde Shelton:
And I bet you take it up the fucking ass, bitch.
Judge Laura Burch:
Bailiff!
Clyde Shelton:
[to Nick Rice, as he's being dragged away in cuffs by policemen] Hey, see you later, Nick.
Tatyana Larina:
[writing letter] Dearest Evgeny, I write to you, it is all I can do. And now I know it is in your power to punish my presuming heart. Yet if you have one drop of pity, you'll not abandon me to my unhappy fate. I am in love with you and I must tell you this or my heart, my heart which belongs to you, will surely break. I would never have revealed my shame to you, if just once a week I might see you. Exchange a word or two and then think day and night of one thing alone til our next meeting. But you're unsociable, they say, that the country bores you. Is it true? Does the country bore you? Sometimes I wonder that you ever visited us. Why, I'd never have known you or known this agony and fever. I know that all my life's been leading me to this union with you. I recognised you at first sight and knew with certainty. I said to myself, It's him, he has come. Help me, resolve my doubts. Perhaps all this is nonsence, emptiness, a delusion and quite another fate awaits me. Imagine it, I'm here alone half out of my mind. I dread to read this over, my secret longing. I know that I can trust your honour, though I feel faint from shame and fear, Tatyana
Jimmer Negamanee:
Shay, Reubensh.
Rueben Soady:
Yea?
Jimmer Negamanee:
Shince you ain't sherving shashties, I'd sure shike shome of those sherman shlapjakcs. [laughs]
Jimmer Negamanee:
I could eat shlapjacks every day of the weeksh, eh.
Rueben Soady:
Oh, I know you could, Jimmer.
Remnar Soady:
No, not flapjacks.
Jimmer Negamanee:
Ya'll don't like the shlapjacks?
Remnar Soady:
Macaroni and cheese, tank you very much.
Albert Soady:
With spam.
Remnar Soady:
With spam.
Jimmer Negamanee:
How'sh about shlapjacks with spam?
Rueben Soady:
Uh, fellas.
Albert Soady:
J-just spam for me.
Remnar Soady:
Kraft Macaroni and Cheese.
Rueben Soady:
No flapjacks, no macaroni and cheese, and no spam.
Albert Soady:
No spam?
Rueben Soady:
Boys you are not only going to eat like kings, but that 2o bucks you was going to throw into the kiddie for pasties, keep it. I am about to feed the whole camp for all week for absolutely free.
Bruce Wayne:
"We're 5 little items of an everyday sort. You'll find us all in a tennis court". In... A-E-I-O-U. Vowels.
Alfred Pennyworth:
Not entirely unclever, sir, but what do a clock, a match, chess pawns, and vowels have in common? What do these riddles mean?
Bruce Wayne:
Every riddle has a number in the question and they arrived at this order: 13, 1, 8, and 5.
Alfred Pennyworth:
13, 1, 8, and 5. What do they mean?
Bruce Wayne:
Perhaps letters of the alphabet?
Alfred Pennyworth:
Of course, 13 is M.
Bruce Wayne:
1 would be A, 8 would be H, and 5 would be E.
Alfred Pennyworth:
M-A-H-E.
Bruce Wayne:
Perhaps 1 and 8 are 18.
Alfred Pennyworth:
18 is R. M-R-E.
Bruce Wayne:
How about Mr. E.?
Alfred Pennyworth:
Mystery.
Bruce Wayne:
And another name for mystery?
Alfred Pennyworth:
Enigma.
Bruce Wayne:
Mr. E. Nygma. Edward Nygma. Stickley's suicide was obviously a computer-generated forgery.
Alfred Pennyworth:
You really are quite bright, despite what people say.
Trout Walker:
[Trout appears, pointing a rifle at Kate] You got five seconds to tell me where you buried the lout!
Kissin' Kate Barlow:
I've been waitin' for you, Trout... [she draws her pistol and aims. Trout hesitates, but then she lowers it]
Kissin' Kate Barlow:
I ain't gonna kill you. [she throws the gun down, and Trout's wife picks it up]
Trout Walker:
Where's the loot?
Kissin' Kate Barlow:
There ain't no loot.
Trout Walker:
Don't give me that! You robbed every bank from Hell to Houston!
Linda Walker:
We saw you heading back with a shovel, Miss Katherine!
Kissin' Kate Barlow:
Linda Miller? Is that you?
Linda Walker:
I've been Linda Walker for the past thirteen years!
Trout Walker:
One!
Kissin' Kate Barlow:
Aw, Linda, you were such a good student... you must have married him for his money.
Trout Walker:
Two!
Linda Walker:
Well, it's all gone now! It dried up with the lake. Hasn't rained here since the day they killed Sam! Now you better tell him what he wants, he's a desperate man!
Trout Walker:
Three!
Kissin' Kate Barlow:
Go on, kill me.
Trout Walker:
[smiles crookedly] I ain't gonna kill you. But by the time I'm finished with you, you gonna wish you was dead.
Kissin' Kate Barlow:
[chuckles] I've been wishing I was dead for a long time.
Elder Aaron Davis:
Do you ever read the Sunday comics?
Lila:
[confused] I beg your pardon? [changes her mind]
Lila:
Yes, of course the Sunday comics.
Elder Aaron Davis:
Well, when I was a little kid, I use to put my nose right up to them. And I was just amazed because it looked like this mass of dots, and none of it made sense until I pulled back. Life looks like that mass of dots to me sometimes. None of it makes any sense, but I like to think that, from God's perspective, life, everything - even this - make sense. It's not just dots. Instead we're all connected, and it's beautiful and funny and good. This close we can't expect it to make sense, not right now.
Jessica:
You don't appreciate the chaos and absurdity of life on this planet. You don't understand irony, or ethnicity, or eccentricity, or poetry, or the simple joy of being a regular at the diner on your block. I love that. You don't drink coffee or alcohol. You don't over eat. You don't cry when you're alone. You don't understand sarcasm. You plod through life in a neat, colorless, caffeine free, dairy free, conflict free way. I'm bold and angry and tortured and tremendous and I notice when someone has changed their hair part, or when someone is wearing two very distinctly different shades of black or when someone changes the natural temperment of their voice on the phone. I don't give out empty praise. I'm not complacent or well-adjusted. I can't spend fifteen minutes breathing and stretching and getting in touch with myself. I can't spend three minutes finishing an article. I check my answering machine nine times every day and I can't sleep at night because I feel that there is so much to do and fix and change in the world, and I wonder every day if I am making a difference and if I will ever express the greatness within me, or if I will remain forever paralyzed by muddled madness inside my head. I've wept on every birthday I've ever had because life is huge and fleeting and I hate certain people and certain shoes and I feel that life is terribly unfair and sometimes beautiful and wonderful and extraordinary but also numbing and horrifying and insurmountable and I hate myself a lot of the time. The rest of the time I adore myself and I adore my life in this city and in this world we live in. This huge and wondrous, bewildering, brilliant, horrible world.
Petey:
[singing around a campfire with his banjo] 'Bout a handsome little fox let me sing you folks a yarn. / Hey, diddle-dee daddle-da doddle-do doodle-dum! / 'Twas a splendid little feller full of wit 'n' grace 'n' charm. / Say, zippy-zee zappa-za yappy-yo doodle-dum! / Well, like any little critter needin' vittels for his littl'uns, / Well, he stole, and he cheated, and he lied just to survive. / With a doodle-dum diddle-die doddle-diddle doodle-dum!
Other singers:
Doodle-dum diddle-die doddle-diddle doodle-dum!
Petey:
Zippy-zo zippy-zay zippy-zappy zoopy-zee!
Other singers:
Zippy-zo zippy-zay zippy-zappy zoopy-zee!
Petey:
Doo-dah doo-day day...
Petey:
Let me take a little tick now to color in the scene: / 'Cross the valley lived three yokels name of Boggis, Bunce, and Bean. / Now these three crazy jackies had our hero on the run. / Shot the tail off the cuss with a fox-shootin' gun. / But that stylish little fox was as clever as a whip / Dug as quick as a gopher that was hyper-ack-a-tive.
Other singers:
Yeah!
Petey:
Now those three farmers sit 'twhere there's a hole 'twas once a hill. / Singin' diddle-dee daddle-da doddle-do doodle-dum! / And as far as I can reckon they're a-settin' up there still. Singin' zippy-zee zappa-za yappy-yo...
Franklin Bean:
[standing behind him] What are you singing, Petey?
Petey:
Just... just making it up as I went- as I went along, really.
Franklin Bean:
That's just weak songwriting. You wrote a bad song, Petey!
[At night, after searching all day for the way to Messiah Kings, Zia and Mikal suddenly come upon what appears to be an ocean]
Zia:
Holy shit. [They stop in astonishment and he looks at her]
Zia:
Let's go. How come no one in camp mentioned the beach is so close?
Mikal:
Maybe they don't know. Maybe we're the only ones who know. [They make their way down and start to pick their way along the rocky shore. Romantic music starts to play and she look his way]
Mikal:
Hi.
Zia:
Hi. You remember the other day when you were talking about missing things from life and, uh... and how you wanted to go back and I told you I didn't miss anything?
Mikal:
Yeah.
Zia:
Well... when I'm here... with you, I kind of miss myself the way I used to be.
Mikal:
What were you like? I was... I was happy at a time. Obviously before I came here, but...
Mikal:
Yeah.
Mikal:
something about being here with you reminds me of that. It's just, I don't know, it's just weird to me that you can feel that in a place like this. We're all... We're all dead.
Mikal:
You know what? Most of the people that I knew before I got here were either half dead or just completely dead already. You know, completely dead. And you're doing pretty good, Zia.
Zia:
You think so?
Mikal:
Yeah, definitely. [Long awkward silence follows and they look at each other. Zia finally leans in to kiss her and they make out. We see a shot of light reflecting off the water and then see, in the daylight, the two of them, still full clothed, spooning together on the rocks. The camera starts to pull back and we notice unused condoms in various colors as well as used syringes strewn all over the place with discarded beer bottles]
Kneller:
[We hear shouting from afar] Zia! Mikal!
Zia:
[groggily, just starting to move] Kneller. Freaking out. [He looks up and around as she see Kneller approaching]
Zia:
Fuck. Fuck! Mik, get up. [They are both startled by their surroundings]
Zia:
Oh, my God. Oh, God.
Kneller:
Zia. There they are. I've just been worried sick about you.
Zia:
[to Mikal] Careful. Careful. Don't step on it. Put your shoes on.
Kneller:
I hope you didn't sleep *here.*
Zia:
Well, yeah.
Kneller:
Ah! This is where intravenous drug users and prostitutes congregated. It was too revolting for them. Can we get the hell out of here?
Connor:
[on the phone with Sidda] Hi.
Sidda:
How did you know it was me?
Connor:
Who else? How are you feeling?
Sidda:
A little disoriented.
Connor:
Well, horse tranquilizers will do that for you.
Sidda:
I can't believe you let them do this.
Connor:
They didn't ask my permission. They called me on the way to the airport, they informed me of their plan. I saw you off.
Sidda:
From where?
Connor:
I met you at the airport, helped them get you on the plane. They're organized. They even had a note from a doctor. By the way, your pills are in your bag.
Sidda:
[to Ya Yas] I have a bag?
Caro:
Yeah, in the closet. Tell Connor we say hello.
Connor:
[Sidda asks Connor if he heard them] Yeah. I'll tell you one thing, meeting them explains a lot about you.
Sidda:
Such as?
Connor:
Well, let me put it this way. You're a hell of a lot more normal than you've any right to be.
Sidda:
Listen, I'm gonna try and bust out of here tomorrow. I gotta get back for work.
Connor:
Don't rush back on my account.
Sidda:
I just said it was for work.
Connor:
And I just meant maybe you ought to try to stay and fix this thing with your mother for once and for all.
Sidda:
Why are you so worried about this?
Connor:
Because I'm afraid that one day our kids may feel that way about you.
Sidda:
Ow.
Connor:
These women may be nuts, but I have a feeling they might know something that you don't.
Sidda:
I don't think it's fair that you're bringing kids we don't even have into this, Connor, okay? That was just a really low blow.
Connor:
Well, that's the way I feel. Stay there. Deal with it.
Sidda:
[hangs up] YOU deal with it.
Old Story Teller:
And a Man sat alone, drenched deep in sadness. And all the animals drew near to him and said, "We do not like to see you so sad. Ask us for whatever you wish and you shall have it." The Man said, "I want to have good sight." The vulture replied, "You shall have mine." The Man said, "I want to be strong." The jaguar said, "You shall be strong like me." Then the Man said, "I long to know the secrets of the earth." The serpent replied, "I will show them to you." And so it went with all the animals. And when the Man had all the gifts that they could give, he left. Then the owl said to the other animals, "Now the Man knows much, he'll be able to do many things. Suddenly I am afraid." The deer said, "The Man has all that he needs. Now his sadness will stop." But the owl replied, "No. I saw a hole in the Man, deep like a hunger he will never fill. It is what makes him sad and what makes him want. He will go on taking and taking, until one day the World will say, 'I am no more and I have nothing left to give.'"
Persnikitty:
Will you please keep quiet? God, god! Oh, this really is too much.
Garfield:
Hey, Persnikitty! Happy Chapman's cat! What are you doing here?
Persnikitty:
I was his cat, until I outlived my purpose. And then he replaced me with a dog and dumped me in this wretched place. All humans are the same.
Garfield:
Not my owner. He only does what's best for me. He puts up with me and he feeds me.
Persnikitty:
And he lets you vacation in this charming animal pound. Hello.
Garfield:
Not for long, Persnikitty.
Persnikitty:
Would you please just stop calling me that? My name isn't really Persnikitty. It's Sir Roland.
Garfield:
Sir Roland.
Persnikitty:
Yeah, that's another one of Happy Chapman's acts of cruelty. I was trained in a classical theater, you know, mm-hmm. But now I'm a celebrity cable castoff cat, with a name I can never live down.
Garfield:
Well this may hurt a little, but, I'm trying to rescue the dog that replaced you, Persnikitty... I mean, Roland. Happy and Odie are getting on a train in less than two hours, to become regulars on Good Day New York.
Spanky:
Wait a minute. Did I just hear that? You're a cat that's trying to rescue a dog?
Garfield:
It's true, I know, it's a crime against nature. At first I thought he was a pain but, he's grown on me like a wart you wanna have removed until you realized it defines you in some funny way.
Persnikitty:
You know what, that is absolutely charming.
Spanky:
Let me ask you one question, chubby. What are you talking about?
Garfield:
How could you understand? He's my friend.
King Baldwin IV:
Come forward. I am glad to meet Godfrey's son. He was one of my greatest teachers. He was there when, playing with the other boys, my arm was cut. It was he, not my father's physicians who noticed that I felt no pain. He wept when he gave my father the news, that I am a leper. The Saracens say that this disease is God's vengence against the vanity of our kingdom. As wretched as I am, these Arabs believe that the chastisement that awaits me in hell is far more severe and lasting. If that's true, I call it unfair. Come. Sit. When I was sixteen I won a great victory. I felt in that moment that I should live to be one hundred, now I know I shall not see thirty. You see, none of us chose our end really. A king may move a man, a father may claim a son. But remember that, even when those who move you be kings or men of power, your soul is in your keeping alone. When you stand before God you cannot say "but I was told by others to do thus" or that "virtue was not convinient at the time. This will not suffice. Remember that.
Balian of Ibelin:
I will.
King Baldwin IV:
Then go now to your father's house at Ibelin, and from there protect the pilgim road. Protect the helpless. And then perhaps one day when I am helpless you will come and protect me.
President Kennedy:
[addressing the NPIC photograph analyst] Okay - let's have it.
NPIC Photo Interpreter:
Gentlemen, as most of you now know, a U-2 over Cuba Sunday morning took a series of disturbing photographs. Our analysis at NPIC indicates that the Soviet Union has followed up its conventional weapons build-up in Cuba with the introduction of surface-to-surface, medium-range ballistic missiles, or MRBMs. Our official estimate at this time is that the missile system is the SS-4 'Sandal'. We do not believe that the missiles are as yet operational. Iron Bark reports that the SS-4 can deliver a 3-megaton nuclear weapon 1,000 miles. So far we've identified 32 missiles serviced by about 3400 men, undoubtedly all Soviet personnel. Our cities and military installations in the southeast as far north as Washington, D.C., are in range of these weapons, and in the evnt of a launch would have only 5 minutes warning.
General Marshall Carter:
5 minutes, gentlemen.
Gen. Max Taylor:
In those 5 minutes, they could kill 80 million Americans - and destroy a significant percentage of our bomber bases, degrading our retaliatory options. The Joint Chiefs' consensus, Mr. President, is that this signals a major doctrinal shift in Soviet thinking - to a first-strike policy. It is a massively destabilizing move.
Robert Kennedy:
How long until they're operational?
NPIC Photo Interpreter:
General Carter can answer that question better than I can.
Gen. Max Taylor:
GMAC - Guided Missiles Intelligence Committee - estimates 10-14 days. A crash program could limit that time. However, I must stress that there may be more missiles - that we don't know about. We'll need more U-2 coverage.
President Kennedy:
Gentlemen, I want first reactions here. Assuming for the moment that Khruschev has NOT gone off the deep end - and intends to start World War 3 - what are we looking at?
Dean Rusk:
Mr. President, I believe my team is in agreement. If we permit the introduction of nuclear missiles to a Soviet satellite nation in our hemisphere, the diplomatic consequnces will be too terrible to contemplate. The Russians are trying to show the world they can do whatever they want, wherever they want, and we're powerless to stop them. If they succeed...
Robert Kennedy:
It'll be Munich all over again.
Dean Rusk:
Yes. Appeasement only makes the aggressor more aggressive. And the Soviets will be emboldened to push us even harder. Now we must remove the missiles one way or another. Now it seems to me the options are either some combination of international pressure & action on our part, until they give in - or - we hit them. An air strike.
