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: I thought you said you didn't want to direct the show? Michael
: I said I didn't want to. I didn't say that I wasn't capable. Lydia Grant
: Oh, then you do think you can handle it? Michael
: Oh, no problem, I can handle it. Lydia Grant
: Oh, good. Then you got it baby, the job is yours.
[pulls a cassette out of it's player
: But wait, I'm... Lydia Grant
: No Michael, look, I have my hands full without trying to direct this extravaganza.
[puts the cassette in his hand
] Lydia Grant
: Merry Christmas, happy birthday, the job is yours. Have a good time.
: Sorry I'm late. Michael
: Oh, you're not late. Christopher Donlon
: I'm not early. Michael
: You're not early, or late. You're just fired. Christopher Donlon
: What do you mean, I'm fired? Michael
: I mean I still like you enough to spare you the lectures. I'll just give it to you straight: You're out of the show.
: Me and the director are just like this, man. He loves it when I show up on time, every time. Christopher Donlon
: That's just 'cause it's your show.
: But Miss Grant, there's gonna be innocent parents out there in the audience.
: Good, I go last, I can finish grading these papers. Billy Hall
: You're supposed to be nervous, you're supposed to be preparing for your art. Michael
: Look at Holly Laird. Now that's art. Go ahead and give her an A plus, Amatullo, give her an A plus just for being alive. Danny Amatullo
: Yo, Amatullo don't fix no grades for nobody. Not even if they look like that.