$1.3 million in gold bullion. Our cut would be 40%.
You can't cheat me any more.
Mac: Aldabra. It's the island time forgot. It's off the coast of Mozambique.
You'd
love it.
Li Ann: I've never heard of it.
Mac: Two weeks. What do you think?
Victor: Like you can afford it.
Mac: I have but one thing to say to that. Psychotic beekeepers.
Li Ann: The Sigvottsen case?
Victor: Not the bribe money.
Li Ann; You didn't turn it in?
Mac: Nobody asked me.
Victor: Listen, give it back, man. Trust me, you'll only get burned.
Li Ann: Mac, that's $20,000.
Mac: Who deserves it most, huh? Well, some of us deserve it.
So as I was saying,
Aldabra.
Victor: Hey, heads up, heads up. One... And two.
Li Ann: Plus a driver.
Mac: Let's take them.
Victor: No. We're supposed to follow them.
Mac: We haven't seen any action in weeks.
Victor: No, forget it.
Mac: Are we dressed for driving or fighting?
Li Ann: Mac, we're going to follow orders, all right?
Mac: All right, fine, I'll take them.
Victor: No!
Mac: Hey, fellows, what say we open that truck together?
Guy: Who are you?
Mac: Hear you got some nice weapons. Like that stuff. Let's see.
Guy: You're supposed to have a gun or something?
Mac: I got one. But I don't need it. I've got my hands. Who's first?
Come on, hit
me. come on, try and hit
me. Whaa! Come on, hit me. Come on, watch this.
Oh! Oh!
Victor: Sometimes he's not quite as good as he thinks he is.
Li Ann: I'd better get him out of this.
Victor: I got the driver.
Mac: Help.
Victor: Hey, where are you going? You got leafs tickets or what?
Mac: Your kung fu is quite good.
Victor: This is supposed to be a weapons job. What's in there?
Driver: I don't know. They're paying me to pick it up.
Mac: Oh, those look like lungs. Are those lungs?
Victor: No, they're not-- oh, hey. Why would anybody be smuggling lungs?
Li Ann: Because they're human lungs.
Action!
Mr. Ramsay Sr.: They were somewhat estranged. The old man took off years
ago. Sent him
postcards from exotic locales
and such. But he made a great deal of money
before his death. His dying
wish was that his son, Mac, should inherit it all,
no matter how hard it was
to find him.
Woman: Wow! Ok, uh, he lived on Queen's Quay or -- I don't know --
Queen's Landing. I
had a lot of champagne that night.
Mr. Ramsay Sr.: Which is only appropriate, my dear -- your beauty sparkles
as does the finest
champagne.
Woman: [ laughing ] That was charming. You know, I wrote down his address
somewhere.
Give me a minute, ok?
Mr. Ramsay Sr.: Ok. Excuse me. I'm so sorry.
Director: For what?
Mr. Ramsay Sr.: For keeping you waiting.
Director: I'm not waiting for anyone.
Mr. Ramsay Sr.: Oh, on the contrary. You've been waiting years for
someone who truly
understands you.
Director: If I ever meet that person, they won't live very long.
Mr. Ramsay Sr.: It's perfectly obvious to me that under all that leather
is a great deal more
leather. I'm certain we have a great deal in common. Perhaps we'll meet
again.
Woman: [ laughing ] It was Queen's Quay.
Mr. Ramsay Sr.: You, my dear, are a peach.
Woman: Listen, um, tell Mac, hi, from Sherry.
Assistant: Shh. Shh. Yeah.
[ music ]
Mr.Stone: Rum. [ hacking cough ] I told you, no operettas after diner.
They make me cough.
Assistant: This isn't operetta. And music doesn't make you cough. Those
cigarettes do.
Mr. Stone: When I want crap from you, I'll squeeze your head.
Assistant: That is well beneath your standard of abuse, Mr. Stone,
which is usually impeccable.
Mr. Stone: Yeah, well, you try breathing with these lungs, and we'll
check out your mood.
Where the hell are my new ones?
Assistant: The shipment was intercepted. We're trying to find out who
took them.
Mr. Stone: I want those lungs, and I want them now! What's so hard
about finding a pair
of lungs, anyway? Everybody's got 'em.
Victor: The truck driver said he was to drop his cargo off at some beauty
supply
store. We turned the place over -- nothing. I thought we'd be up to our
elbows
in livers and lungs.
Mac: Ok, enough, enough.
Victor: What's the matter, Mac? Didn't you sign your organ donor cards
-- you know
they'll take your lungs, your eyes, your brain if they can find it.
Director: Settle, my angels, settle. The organs are harvested in Asia.
China, Thailand,
the Philippines among other places. Sometimes they're purchased from willing
donors. Sometimes the donors are not so willing. Executions are a big source.
If the supply is low, the number of death sentences goes up.
Li Ann: Who's buying them?
Director: People who are very sick and very wealthy. Waiting for a
legitimate donor can
take years sometimes.
Mac: So why were we looking for weapons?
Director: Good question. Our source is usually impeccable. We got word
that the drop was
from Harvey Stone. I hope I don't need to explain who he is.
Mac: The arms dealer?
Director; There doesn't seem to be any connection to Stone. So for
now, our job is to
find out who's performing these illegal organ transplants and shut down
the
operation, so to speak.
Mac: So, listen, uh, I've been feeling a little bit under the weather
lately. What
do you feel about
a little furlough? 'Cause I know Li Ann needs a vacation.
Aldabra.
Director: Yes, she does, and she's going to get one. Healing Soul spa
and retreat. It's
a luxury facility just outside of town. Our phone records tell us that
Healing
Soul and the warehouse were in constant communication. Here's the man who
runs
the spa, Dr. Adam Petrosian. Graduated med school 10 years ago, but never
practised -- instead he opened this place and started catering to the
marvellously rich. Check in there in one hour. Victor, I want you around
for
backup -- find a suitable cover, and, Mac--
Mac: You want me to take a nice long vacation -- I know it.
Director: We're releasing the driver of the truck. I want you to tail
him. See what
happens. But no interventions. I want information, not a body count, is
that
clear? You have a few battle scars. They certainly make you look more
masculine. They might even help to dispel some of those rumours that are
floating around here about you. Now, Mac, I read your report on that psychotic
beekeeper thing. The, uh, Sigvottsen case, I believe. I was very impressed.
It
was very thorough. Now get out there and try not to cough up your lunch.
Mr. Ramsay Sr.: Eureka! Son!
Mac: Dad?
Mr. Ramsay Sr.: My beautiful boy! Ha, how long has it been? Come here
and give your old man a hug.
Mr. Ramsay Sr.: $1.3 million in gold bullion. Our cut will be 40%.
Mac: Right.
Mr. Ramsay Sr.: You don't believe me.
Mac: Of course I do. Whose play is it?
Mr. Ramsay Sr.: South American General who was smuggling gold out of
his country's treasury.
There was a coup -- the General had to head for the hills, as it were.
And so
now he needs someone to go on in there and get it out. A skilled pilot
with a
small seaplane. Voila, it's perfect.
Mac: Where do I come in?
Mr. Ramsay Sr.: Need 20,000 for the plane.
Mac; Oh.
Mr. Ramsay Sr.: We split 50-50. Look, it can't miss.
Mac: Sorry, there's no way.
Mr. Ramsay Sr.: Why not?
Mac: I don't have the money. I don't have the money. Yes, I do have
the money.
Mr. Ramsay Sr.: I knew it.
Mac: But it's not exactly mine, and I'm not going to give it to you
anyway.
Mr. Ramsay Sr.: I understand completely. No, no, truly, I do. I haven't
been much of a father,
have I? I was never there when you needed me. Oh, god. I'm as rotten as
my own
old man. I'm sorry, son...for everything.
Mac: Dad. This isn't like the oil fields in Indonesia, is it? You remember,
the
ones that were filled with
carbolic acid.
Mr. Ramsay Sr.: It's as sure a thing as I've ever seen.
Mac: Mom left you 'cause of your sure things.
Mr. Ramsay Sr.: Lillian?
Mac: Anita. Lillian was your third wife. My mom's Anita, number two,
remember?
Mr. Ramsay Sr.: Of course I do. She's a marvellous woman. Built like
a goddess. Oh, and the
stamina, my god! The woman was insatiable. There-- you see, I always--
Mac: You abandoned me.
Mr. Ramsay Sr.: I most certainly did not. You ran away.
Mac: Why didn't you look for me?
Mr. Ramsay Sr.: In Hong Kong? There isn't a square foot of available
real estate, let alone a
brash young man determined not to be found. You wanted to strike out on
your
own. I had no right to interfere. When I saw you'd hooked up with the Tang
family, I knew my work was done -- so, about my plan.
Mac: You can't cheat me any more. No more, nobody can. I look out for
number one
now, just like you taught
me.
Mr. Ramsay Sr.: Fantastic! This is better than I could have hoped.
You saw through my
deception as thought it were a transparent shower curtain. You passed the
test. What a team we'll make.
Mac: What are you talking about?
Mr. Ramsay Sr.: I am talking about you, my son, your moxy, your style,
your intuition --
you've got it. Oh, I've been waiting years for a partner like you.
Mac: Didn't you hear what I said?
Mr. Ramsay Sr.: I've been planning a sting for many years, bigger than
anything I've ever
handled. Billions of dollars, literally. I can't wait to tell you.
Mac: I can't talk about this right now. I have to go to work.
Mr. Ramsay Sr.: Fine. Let's have lunch later on. I'll make Lobster
Newburg and tell you all
about it.
Mac: Where are you staying?
Mr. Ramsay Sr.: Well, uh, here, of course. We are family. I'll have
lunch waiting for you on
the table. Be here at 2:00.
Adam: My mission is to help maximize human potential. Sure, we have
the latest
exercise
machines, manicures, shiatsu massage. So do a lot of other spas. What
we have
here is purpose. And that purpose is to help you reconnect with
yourself.
Why are you here, Miss Chen?
Li Ann: I just thought a few days of rest would be nice.
Adam: Rest, yes, some people say that to me. "Adam, I'm tired; I need
a rest."
"Adam,
I want to get into shape." "I want to lose a few pounds." "I want to be
pampered."
and all that's well and good, but isn't there something more? Isn't
there
something deeper that you're really looking for? Hmm?
Li Ann: I don't know.
Adam: Wouldn't you like to feel alive again? Wouldn't you like to feel
the
excitement
of each new day the way it felt when you were a child?
Li Ann: I guess so.
Adam: That's what we have to offer here at healing soul. Exercise,
diet,
hydrotherapy, massage, all of it designed to free the inner you, the real
you.
This way. I've had clients tell me that their time at Healing Soul has
changed
their lives. I hope you'll feel the same way when your stay with us is
done,
Phyllis. May I call you Phyllis?
Li Ann: Of course. I hope I'll feel the same way too, Dr. Petrosian.
Can I see the
rest of the facility?
Adam: Absolutely. Lucille, could you have Rod meet us at the patio?
Faye: This is really unbelievable. I will not be kept waiting any longer.
Adam: Faye, are we breathing?
Faye: I'm breathing, I'm breathing. Doctor, we have to talk right now.
Adam: Of course, Faye. Come, sit down. If you wouldn't mind excusing
us, Rod will be
out momentarily.
Faye: Ok.
Adam: Thank you.
Faye: Doctor, this is simply not good enough. I can't wait another
week. That was
not our agreement.
Adam: Faye, I'm not hearing a lot of trust. What we do is hard enough.
But without
trust--
Faye: Doctor, I am not the one who is screwing up here. Are you hearing
me?
Mac: Great, right on time. The guy's in the apartment on the far left,
second
floor. Watch him, make sure
no one bombs him. I don't know.
Dobrinsky: How long you going to be?
Mac: I don't know. I'm having lunch with...with a friend.
Dobrinsky: Couple hours?
Mac: At least. A lot to catch up on.
Dobrinsky: Oh, that's nice. 1,500 ought to do it.
Mac: Ought to do what?
Dobrinsky: Pay for my time.
Mac: Are you nuts? Is that-- you can't charge me for covering for me.
We're -- I
don't know -- we're--
Dobrinsky: Pals?
Mac: Yes, pals, me and you.
Dobrinsky: You sugared my gas tank last week.
Mac: I would never do something like that. Why do you think that I
would do
something like that?
Dobrinsky: 'Cause I dusted the car for prints.
Mac: It was joke, all right. It was Vic's idea.
Dobrinsky: 1,500.
Mac: Forget it. Hey, it's my father. All right, I haven't seen him
in years. All right, all
right, 1,500.
Dobrinsky: Thank you.
[ spanking ]
Mac: Hello. Can I come in?
Mr. Ramsay Sr.: Ah, right, well, I'd love to, buts it turns out, the
timing is a bit awkward.
Mac: Timing? It's 2:00. You're supposed to be making me lunch. You
said that you'd
make Lobster Newburg.
Mr. Ramsay Sr.: I surely would have, my boy, had you had the foresight
to purchase the lobster.
Mac: Listen, another broken promise.
Mr. Ramsay Sr.: I'm not at fault.
Mac: What are you doing?
Mr. Ramsay Sr.: Oh, nothing, son. Something has, shall we say, come
up.
Mac: You have a woman in there.
Mr. Ramsay Sr.: Sharp, boy. Knew you'd understand. Another half an
hour would be most
appreciated.
Mac: Half an hour?
Mr. Ramsay Sr.: She's really quite a remarkable woman. Circus training
unless I miss my guess.
You better make it 45 minutes.
Mac: I just spent $1,500. I don't have time for this!
Mr. Ramsay Sr.: I, uh, did offer to feed you, after all. I have no
idea what that is. It was
in the fridge. An hour would be best, just to be on the safe side. Wait.
You
wouldn't happen to have a voltage converter, would you -- 220 to 110? No,
well... the old-fashioned way, I guess.
Mr. Ramsay Sr.: My sincere apologies about that whole converter business.
I'm certain I had it
when I left Singapore.
Director: We made do.
Dobrinsky: Hey, you're early.
Mac: Yes, I know this. Lunch got canceled. You can take off.
Dobrinsky: Hey, man, you bought four hours.
Mac: I obviously don't need them any more. Give me my money back, too,
by the way.
Dobrinsky: Do I look like Wal-mart?
Mac: Come on, Dobrinsky, be a pal.
Dobrinsky: You got some time. Go see a movie.
Mac: You're not going to give me that money back, are you?
Dobrinsky: You did sugar my gas tank.
Mac: Yeah, ok, see you later. Come on.
Dobrinsky: I'll stay if you want. [ humming ] oh, yeah, just made myself
$1,500.
Guy#1: This is the place here.
Guy#2: You know, you're lucky you smoke, you know. 'Cause we happen
to be in the
market for some lungs. If you had healthy lungs, you'd be an excellent
candidate.
Li Ann: ...and three more, and two more, one more...
Victor: I checked the building specs. I think there's a hidden wing
leading off of here.
Li Ann: That would make sense. The exterior architecture doesn't match
the interior.
Victor: Got any guesses?
Li Ann: Somewhere on that wall. I need about a minute.
Victor: No problem. [ whistling ] oh, my, my. All right, people, I
don't want to
create any panic, but we need everybody out of the pool. Ok, got a major
e
coli bacterial break-out in this pool, and you're all going to be dead
in, oh,
three hours if you don't get out right now!
People in pool: [ screaming ]
Mr. Stone: Where the hell are my lungs?
Man: I don't know. Ohhh!
Mr. Stone: Answer me.
Man: I didn't see what was in it. I just-- there were just three of
them. There
were two guys and
a woman. I don't know who they were.
Mac: No interventions, no body count. That's what she said.
Mr. Stone: [ wheezing ] I need those lungs.
Man: I swear I don't know what to tell you.
Mr. Stone: Fine. Thank you very much. Kill him.
Man: Oh, no. Please, man.
Mr. Stone: Get back in time to make dinner.
Assistant: How about some cod livers?
Mr. Stone: I'm sick of fish.
Assistant: Some nice tripe, then. Ta-ta.
Mac: Why don't you pick on someone your size, fat boy?
Assistant: That's unnecessarily cruel. My girth comes from a glandular
disorder.
Mac: Uh-huh. It's Jenny McCarthy.
Assistant: I'm entirely unimpressed by pop icons.
Mac: You're very good. That one usually works.
Man: Where did you come from, man? I don't know how to thank you.
Mac: I'll bill you.
Adam: I don't mean to be invasive in any way, but what are you doing
here?
Li Ann: It's about time somebody showed up. I've been lost 15 minutes.
I'm late for my
seaweed wrap.
Adam: Let's not make this a blame issue, Phyllis.
Li Ann: What kind of place is this? Some kind of secret labratory?
Adam: No, not at all. Please, Phyllis, come, let me explain. I told
you we try to
help people change their lives here, you remember?
Li Ann: Yes.
Adam: But some people who are trying to free their inner selves find
themselves held
back, hindered by their outer selves. We can help reconcile that harsh
external reality with the truer inner reality of the person.
Li Ann: With plastic surgery?
Adam: Ha, ha...that's such a clinical term. Um, I'm talking about making
dreams come true.
Li Ann: But why is it all so secret?
Adam: To protect your privacy. It shouldn't have to be this way, Phyllis,
but there
are still a lot of bitter, ego-damaged people out there who are too ready
to
snipe and criticize, who resent you for realizing your dreams when they've
already given up on theirs.
Li Ann: I really hate that about people.
Adam: [ laughing ] Oh, it's late, Phyllis. You've done a lot for your
first day.
Let's
resume tomorrow, shall we?
Director: Good morning.
Dobrinsky: Don't know what's good about it. Our source has problems
with conjunctions.
Shipment was for Stone, not from. He wasn't shipping it, he was getting
it.
Director: So he's not in Beirut.
Dobrinsky: Matter of fact, he's due to check into that spa you've got
Li Ann in.
Director: All right, I want some backup down there.
Dobrinsky: That's the problem. We're a little short. Seems everyone's
mopping up the
Sigvottsen case.
Director: All right, get Mac down there at least. I'll think of the
next step. Later.
Adam: Yes, of course. Mr. Stone, if we could just respect each other's
dignity...
Mr. Stone is coming here this afternoon, and he expects his transplant.
He
knows about the busted shipment, and it doesn't look like empathy is his
strong suit.
Faye: Dr. Petrosian.
Adam: Lord, spare us. Hello, Faye.
Faye: I'm going to keep this short, doc. I came here because you told
me the liver
was guaranteed. Guaranteed!
Adam: I would be happy to refund the cost of your stay.
Faye: Money I got. It's a liver I need. And if I leave here without
one, I am going
straight to lunch
with my second ex-husband. He just became district court
judge. You figure
it out.
Adam: I'm really starting to prefer passive aggressives.
Rod: You shouldn't put up with that kind of abuse, Doctor -- that woman
has no
boundaries.
Adam: I'm afraid I agree. Kill her. I mean, the sad truth about Faye
is she's on so
many stimulants that if she we to overdose in a motel somewhere, no one
would
blink -- deal with it this afternoon.
Rod: What about Mr. Stone?
Adam: That's actually a bigger problem. Did you check with Kwan in
the Philippines?
He won't have anything fresh for at least two days.
Rod: Say, as long as Faye is checking out, what if we yank out her
lungs and pop them in stone.
Adam: Please. The term is "harvest," not "yank!" anyway, putting that
woman's organs
in someone else's body would
be like implanting a bag of live cats. Well, I'll
think of something. I always
do.
Victor: Ok, the supply room is at the end of this hall. With a whole
freezer full of
human tripe.
Mac: Don't start. Oh, my god! What the hell are you doing here?
Mr. Ramsay Sr.: I might ask the same of you.
Mac: I got no time for games.
Victor: Who is this?
Mac: It's my father.
Victor: Your father? I thought he was dead.
Mr. Ramsay Sr.: Thank you so much.
Mac: You got 30 seconds.
Mr. Ramsay Sr.: This isn't exactly the kind of--
Mac: Come on, talk to me.
Mr. Ramsay Sr.: All right, all right. I'm dying. I'm sorry, son. I
truly am. I didn't want you
to know. The last thing I wanted was to end up a burden to the son I
abandoned.
Mac: What do you mean, you're dying? How are you dying? Dying how?
Mr. Ramsay Sr.: You know the life I've lived, Mac. I haven't exactly
been prudent. Oh, it's my
liver. It's giving out. Petrosian says that with a new one, I've got an
80%
chance.
Victor: We've got to keep moving.
Mac: So this is why you wanted the money? Why didn't you just say something?
Mr. Ramsay Sr.: Don't worry about me. I've managed to persuade Petrosian
that I'm good for it.
Once I've had the operation, I'll find my way out.
Mac: You'll sneak out in the middle of the night after a liver transplant
-- are
you crazy?
Victor: Mac. We're out of time.
Mr. Ramsay Sr.: Out of time for what? You haven't said why you're here.
Mac: Look, I can't right now. All right? Don't go anywhere, ok? I'll
be back. We'll
work this out. I have not
seen that guy in six years. What am I talking about?
I haven't seen him six times
in my whole life.
Victor: Come on. Deal with it later. Ok, go to it.
Adam: Interesting -- here I am, in need of a...healthy specimen. And
here you are,
again, snooping around where you're not supposed to... you know, Rod, I
think
we found that donor for Mr. Stone.
Mac: I can't believe he didn't tell me that he was sick, you know?
Victor: Maybe he doesn't want you to worry.
Mac: Right -- he'd rather I thought he was flying gold out of South
America.
Victor: Your dad's a pilot?
Mac: Hard to say. His relationship with the truth isn't exactly what
I would
call...monogamous.
Got it.
Victor: Good.
Mac: Oh, my god!
Victor: Liver, lungs -- I don't know about you but I would say that
this constitutes
evidence.
Mac: Let's go.
Victor: Shh.
Mac: What?
Victor: Company. No choice, pal.
Adam: In fact, we've just procured a first-rate set of organs. We don't
do it often,
but let's just say you're a special client, Mr. Stone.
Mr. Stone: Save it.
Mac: Yes.
Victor: I think that you are out of your mind.
Mac: I cannot believe that I'm going to ask this. What would you do?
Victor: Oh... I don't know. I do know that people would pay to take
my old man's liver
out, not put one in.
Mac: Come on. If you could save him.
Victor: Mac, we gotta shut him down.
Mac: I know that. I'm not saying that we don't. I'm just saying that,
that we just
wait a couple days.
Victor: Until your old man gets a transplant.
Mac: Why not?
Victor: You said it yourself, that you hardly know the guy. And you
told me that all
he ever did was try to con you. What do you owe him?
Mac: You are so right. I mean, let him cack. What do I owe him? Except
he's my father.
[ muffled screaming ]
[ muffled screaming ]
Mac: Ho!
Victor: What?
Mac: Harvey Stone and company.
Victor: Oh, yeah. What is an arms dealer doing here?
Mac: He's getting a mud bath. What else?
Victor: Go.
Adam: I imagine you're disappointed with me. I accept that. That's
valid. But you
haven't been honest with me, either, have you? Trust has to be a two-way
street, Phyllis...
Li Ann: Mmm...
Adam: If that's really your name.
Mac: Ok, Dad, gotta get you out of here.
Mr. Ramsay Sr.: Mac, I must talk to you.
Mac: We'll get you a transplant or something, ok, this is illegal.
Mr. Ramsay Sr.: Forget that -- I saw Petrosian strapping a woman on
a gurney. Seemed to be
struggling.
Mac: What woman?
Mr. Ramsay Sr.: She was very tall, very beautiful, cheeks to die for,
raven-haired, young
Asian woman...
Mac and Victor: Li Ann.
Mr. Ramsay Sr.: With a kind of languid beauty that seemed to linger
long after I'd lost sight
of her.
Adam: A healthy does of death. Perfect.
[ clanging ]
[ gunshot ]
Mr. Stone: Where the hell are my lungs?
Adam: Right there.
Mr. Stone: Good. I'm open-minded. I have no gender preferences. Best
kidney I ever had
was a woman's. But, uh, I don't think this is the place to do it.
Assistant: Ah, it's the young man with the rude manners.
Mr. Stone: Looks to me like you've had a security breach.
Assistant: I'll take your gun now.
Mr. Stone: Get the lungs. We'll take her to Dr. Rosen.
Adam: What's up? We had a deal.
Mr. Stone: I deal arms, not lungs. Call your lawyer.
Adam: You festering bag of disease.
Mr. Stone: Thanks for the lung. It's been a slice.
Mac: Can you get them to me?
Victor: Catch.
Victor: Come on, man, little applause would be nice.
Mac: Your kung fu is quite good.
Mr. Stone: What the hell is going on?
Mr. Ramsay Sr.: Oh, yoo-hoo. Your distributor.
Get him.
Victor: Oh!
Mac: They took our guns.
Victor: Yeah. You don't carry spare?
Mac: No, you know, it ruins the line on my jacket.
Victor: Thanks for the Uzi.
Mr. Stone: They struck my vehicle.
Mac: I'm out.
Victor: Yeah, I think we should go.
Mac: I was just putting down my roots here, too. It's close to schools
and
shopping.
Adam: Damnation. I told Rod to change the key. Ahhh!
Li Ann: Ok, who wants to be target practice?
Mac: I'll take your gun now. I wouldn't have said this yesterday, but...
I'm really
glad to see you, Dad.
Director: You're late.
Mac: It's my father. I can't find him anywhere. He disappeared again.
Director: I would prefer if you dealt with personal matters on your
own time.
Mac: Boy, you're something. Suppose if your father was dying you'd
book him in for,
like, a breakfast meeting
or something, sometime next year -- what do you
think, guys?
Director: Excuse us. First of all, your father is just fine. He has
absolutely no health
problems.
Mac: How would you know?
Director: Well, let's just say he's an acquaintance. And I make it
a point to check the
records of anyone I might become acquainted with.
Mac: Why was he at the spa?
Director: I sent him.
Mac: You sent him.
Director: We're short-staffed, you needed backup, and he needed the
work. Freelance. He
had all the right background: confidence rackets, fraud, larceny. Genetics
is
real a remarkable thing, isn't it?
Mac: So let me get this straight. My father isn't dying. And you were
paying him to
be there. Is that right?
Director: Well, technically, you paid him.
Mac: I paid him. What does that mean?
Director: With the money from the Sigvottsen case. And if you ever
try to cheat me
again, I'll put you in a room full of psychotic bees. Here. It's from your
father.
Mr. Ramsay Sr.:
Hello, son. By the time you see this, I'll be far away. I hope you're
not
entirely disappointed with the old man. I did want to apologize for
deceiving
you about my health. I suppose I could have told you the truth, but
it seemed
so rushed, and, well, old habits die hard. By the way, I meant what
I said
about teaming up. I tell you, the pair of us working together, we could
clean
up. Think about it. If you want to reach me, I'm heade for the south
pacific.
A little island called Aldabra. Send it general delivery. I should
be there...
sooner or later. Ciao, and... good work, son. I'm proud of you.