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: No you did not explain anything to me. All you did was shove me back here in this cattle car. Stewardess
: Sir, you were told when you boarded we were overbooked. Richard Thornburg
: Fine. Done. I accept that. But why in hell can't I get the first class meal my network paid for. Do you know who I am? Stewardess
: Yes. We've all seen your program. Your episode "Flying Junkyards" was a very objective look at air traffic safety. Stewardess
: It wasn't nearly as edifying as "Bimbos of the Sky." Was it, Connie? Richard Thornburg
: You think you're funny. You think you're funny. Fine. I've got your number. Stewardess
: And I've got yours. So park it, Sir. Richard Thornburg
: [sits down and sees Holly looking at him
] Stewardess! Stewardess
: Mr. Thornburg, you cannot monopolize my time. Richard Thornburg
: You cannot put me near that woman. Stewardess
: Excuse me? Holly McClane
: He means he's filed a restraining order against me. I'm not allowed within 50 feet of him. Richard Thornburg
: 50 yards. So by keeping me in the section you are violating a court order. I can sue you and this airline. That woman assaulted me and she humiliated me in public. Stewardess
: [walks over to Holly and whispers
] What did you do? Holly McClane
: Knocked out two of his teeth. Stewardess
: Would you like some champagne?
: Listen Dick. That is your name? Dick. If you're gonna continue to get this close do you think you might consider switching aftershaves? Richard Thornburg
: Anything else? Holly McClane
: Stronger mouthwash would be nice.
: [Thornburg has been grossly distorting and exaggerating the facts about the terrorists to WZDC News over the air-phone
] But at least the truth, is *not* among the hostages because I, Richard Thornburg, just happen to be here. To put his life and talent on the line for humanity and country,
[Holly enters the bathroom
] Richard Thornburg
: and if this should be my final broadcast... Holly McClane
: [zaps him with stun-gun
] Amen to that, Dick!
: Touching, Cowboy, touching. Or should I call you, Mr. McClane? Mr. Officer John McClane of the New York Police Department? Richard Thornburg
: Get on the phone to Harry in New York. Come on, baby, move, move. Thornburg's Assistant
: Got it. Sergeant Al Powell
: Better get a hold of somebody in dispatch. John McClane
: Sister Teresa called me Mr. McClane in the third grade. My friends call me John, and you're neither, shit-head. Hans Gruber
: I have someone who wants to talk to you; a very special friend who was with you at the party tonight. Harry Ellis
: [Hans hands him the walkie talkie
] Hey, John boy. John McClane
: Ellis? Harry Ellis
: Yeah. Now listen, John, they're giving me a few minutes to try to talk some sense into you. I know you think you're doing your job, John, and I can appreciate that, but, you're just dragging this thing out. Now look, no one gets outta here until these guys can talk to the *LA* police, and that just ain't gonna happen until you stop messin' up the works, capisci? John McClane
: Ellis, what have you told them? Harry Ellis
: I told 'em we were old friends and you were my guest at the party. John McClane
: Ellis, you shouldn't be doin' this. Harry Ellis
: Tell me about it. Alright, John, listen. They want you to tell them where the detonators are. They know people are listening. They want the detonators or they're gonna kill me.
] Harry Ellis
: John, didn't you hear me? John McClane
: Yeah, I hear you. Harry Ellis
: Hey, John, I think you can get with the program a little, huh? The police are here now, it's their problem. Now tell these guys where the detonators are so no one else gets hurt, you know I'm putting my life on the line for you, pal. John McClane
: Ellis, listen to me very carefully. Harry Ellis
: John? John McClane
: Shut up Ellis, just shut your mouth! Put Hans back on the line.
[Ellis holds the walkie talkie up
] John McClane
: Hans, this shit-head does not know what kind of man you are, but I do. Listen to me! Hans Gruber
: Good. Then, you'll give us what we want and save your friend's life. You're not part of this equation this time, you realize that.
[presents his gun
] Harry Ellis
: Hey, what am I, a method actor? Hans, babe, put away the gun, this is radio, not television. John McClane
: [nervously yelling
] Hans, this asshole is not my friend, I just met him tonight, I don't know him. Jesus Christ, Ellis these people are gonna kill you, tell them, you don't know me. Harry Ellis
: John, how can you say that after all these years, huh? John?
[gets no response
] Harry Ellis
[still gets no response, then laughs slightly, then Hans shoots him in the head
] Hans Gruber
: [he puts the walkie talkie up to the screaming crowd, then yells into the walkie talkie
] You hear that? Talk to me, where are my detonators? Where are they, or shall I shoot another one? Sooner or later, I might get to someone you *do* care about! John McClane
: Go fuck yourself, Hans.
] John McClane
: Merry Christmas, Argyle. Argyle
: Merry Christmas. Richard Thornburg
: [to the camera
] Did ya get that? Argyle
: [Argyle shuts the limo door
] If this is their idea of Christmas, I *gotta* be here for New Year's.