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: Now I want you to take a step back... and literally fuck your own face!
Studio Executive Rob Slolom
: Wow. 8 Oscars, 400 million dollars, and you saved Tugg Speedman's career. Les Grossman
: I couldn't have done it without you. Studio Executive Rob Slolom
: Really? Les Grossman
: No, dickhead. Of course I could. A nutless monkey could do your job. Now, go get drunk and take credit at all the parties. Studio Executive Rob Slolom
: I wouldn't do that. Les Grossman
: Ah... joking. Studio Executive Rob Slolom
: Ah, there he is! Funny. You're a funny guy. Les Grossman
: Yeah. But seriously, a nutless monkey could do your job.
: Speedman is a dying star. A white dwarf headed for a black hole. That's physics. It's inevitable. Studio Executive Rob Slolom
: We've been handed an incredible opportunity here, Peck. Les Grossman
: The universe... is talking to us right now. You just gotta listen.
[turns on T-Pain's Apple Bottom Jeans and begins to dance to the beat
] Les Grossman
: See, this is the good part, Pecker. This is when the job gets fun! Ask... and you shall receive! Studio Executive Rob Slolom
: [dancing along
] Right... Les Grossman
: You play ball... we play ball. I knoowwww... you want the goodies! Studio Executive Rob Slolom
: Welcome to the goodie room! Les Grossman
: You paying attention? I'm talking... G5, Pecker! That's how you can roll. No more frequent flyer bitch miles for my boy! Oh yeah! Playa... playa! Big dick playa! Studio Executive Rob Slolom
: Swinging past ya knees! Les Grossman
: Big dick, baby! Studio Executive Rob Slolom
: Yep. Les Grossman
: [turns off the music
] Or... you can grow a conscience in the next five minutes and see where that takes you. Rick Peck
: Let me get this straight. You want me to let my client of 15 years, one of my best friends, die in the jungle alone, for some money and a G5? Les Grossman
: Yes. Rick Peck
] A G5 airplane? Les Grossman
] Yes... and lots of money... playaaaa!
[turns on the music and dances again
: We no get money yet. Price now 100 million. You pay now, or tomorrow Simple Jack Die! Les Grossman
: Great. Let me get this down. 100 million... Oh, wait! I got a better idea. Instead of a hundred million, how about I send you a hobo's dick cheese? Then, you kill him. Do your thing, skin the fucking bastard. Go to town, man. Go to town! In the mean time and as usual, go fuck yourself.
: What you gotta do is pull down their pants and spank their ass, you spank it. Studio Executive Rob Slolom
: You spank that ass Les!
: [communicating with the production team in a video conference
] Which one of you fuckfaces is Damien Cockburn? Damien Cockburn
: Uh, that's me, sir. It's an honor to finally meet you. Get some face time. Les Grossman
: And who here is the key grip?
[the key grip raises his hand
] Les Grossman
: You? You! Hit that director in the face, really fucking hard! Key Grip
: [reluctantly walks over to Damien
] Sorry, man.
[punches him in the face
] Les Grossman
: This is all your fault, you limey FUCK!
: I will fucking massacre you!
: Cockburn, from now on my fist is going to be so far up your shithole that every time you have a thought, it's gonna have to tiptoe past my wedding ring...
: Look, fuckstick, I'm incredibly busy. So why don't you get the hell out of here before I snap your dick off and jam it into your ass...
: First, take a big step back... and literally, FUCK YOUR OWN FACE! I don't know what kind of pan-pacific bullshit power play you're trying to pull here, but Asia Jack is my territory. So whatever you're thinking, you'd better think again! Otherwise I'm gonna have to head down there and I will rain down an un-Godly fucking firestorm upon you! You're gonna have to call the fucking United Nations and get a fucking binding resolution to keep me from fucking destroying you. I'm talking scorched earth, motherfucker! I will massacre you! I WILL FUCK YOU UP!
Four Leaf Tayback
: Spanking a child turns him into a snot. Fear, that's what makes him a man. I know a place where a man's worth is measured by the ears hanging off his dog tags. The real hardcore shit! You wanna make this movie right? That's where you take your pansy ass actors. Les Grossman
] Who is this guy? Studio Executive Rob Slolom
: Les, that's Four Leaf. Four Leaf Tayback
: Sergeant Four Leaf Tayback. I wrote the book. Les Grossman
: Wow. You're a great American. This nation owes you a huge debt. Now shut the fuck up and let me do my job!
: [about Speedman
] They're going to kill him! Les Grossman
: And we'll weep for him... in the press, set up a scholarship in his name, eventually - and I'm talkin' way, way down the road - we file an insurance claim. Studio Executive Rob Slolom
: Preferably before the end of the fiscal year. Actually, the claim alone would net us more than the movie would lose.
: We don't negotiate with terrorists.
: Fuck the jungle!
: You can't be serious? Les Grossman
: You kick in the door to my house all ants in your pants, sucking my left nut to get a TiVo scrap for the 3rd runner-up "sexiest man alive" 1998... And you're asking if I'm SERIOUS?
[Peck bursts into Grossman's office unannounced
] Les Grossman
: What do you need, Peck? Rick Peck
: What do YOU need, Les? Glasses? Les Grossman
: Let's face it, the kids aren't exactly dressing up as The Scorcher for Purim anymore.
: [talking to Peck
] Look fuck-stick, I'm incredibly busy, so why don't you get the hell out of here before I snap your dick off and jam it into your ass. Les Grossman
: [Peck looks dumbfounded
] No, not you Helen, but I will rip your tits off if you don't get me those theatres.