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] Captain Hadley
: That's him. That's the one. Guard Dekins
: I'm Dekins. I was thinking about setting up some kind of trust fund for my kids' educations. Andy Dufresne
: Oh, I see. Well, why don't we have a seat and talk it over. Brooks, do you have a piece of paper and a pencil? Thanks. So, Mr. Dekins... Brooks
: [at lunchtime to the other prisoners
] And then Andy says, "Mr. Dekins, do you want your sons to go to Harvard... or Yale?" Floyd
: He didn't say that! Brooks
: God is my witness! Dekins just looked at him a second and then he laughed himself silly and afterwards he actually shook Andy's hand. Heywood
: My ass. Brooks
: Shook his hand! I near soiled myself, I mean all Andy needed was a suit and a tie and a little jiggly hula gal on his desk and he woulda been *Mister* Dufresne, if you please. Red
: Making a few friends, huh Andy? Andy Dufresne
: I wouldn't say friends. I'm a convicted murderer who provides sound financial planning - it's a wonderful pet to have.
: [Dismissing Red's theory on why Brooks killed himself
] Red, I do believe you're talking out of your ass.
: The Count of Monte Crisco... Floyd
: That's "Cristo" you dumb shit. Heywood
: ...by Alexandree Dumb-ass. Dumb-ass. Andy Dufresne
: Dumb-ass? "Dumas". You know what it's about? You'll like it, it's about a prison break. Red
: We oughta file that under "Educational" too, oughten we?
: Takin' bets today, Red? Red
: Smokes or coins, better's choice. Floyd
: Smokes. Put me down for two. Red
: All right, who's your horse? Floyd
: That little sack o' shit. Eighth, eighth from the front. He'll be first. Heywood
: Aw, bullshit. I'll call that action. You out some smokes, son, let me tell you! Floyd
: Well, Heywood, you so smart, you call it! Heywood
: I'll take the chubby fat-ass there. Fifth from the front. Put me down for a quarter deck.
: It's a fine morning, ain't it? You know why it's a fine morning, don't ya? Come on, set 'em down. I want 'em all lined up, just like a pretty little chorus line.
[the cons pull out cigarettes and hand them over to Heywood, who lines them up in front of him. He takes a long whiff
: Ah, yes. Richmond, Virginia. Floyd
: Smell my ass.