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: Is it really that good? Sidney Bruhl
: I'll tell you how good it is. Even a gifted director couldn't hurt it.
: What I should do is, beat the fat bastard over the head with that mace over there, bury him in a hole big enough to accomodate his bloat, and then send his little masterpiece off under my own name. Myra Bruhl
: Ohh... Sidney Bruhl
: Heh heh. Now, there's the best idea I've had in ten years. Myra Bruhl
: Yes, darling, it's so unfair, isn't it? Sidney Bruhl
: I mean, what's the point in owning a mace, if you don't use it?
: But won't he have another copy lying around somewhere? Sidney Bruhl
: And notes and rough drafts and outlines! And on opening day of my triumph his gray-haired old mother will come running down the aisle...
] Sidney Bruhl
: Every time I come into this bloody house, you scream!
: Well, have you thought about collaboration? Sidney Bruhl
: I don't want any help in killing Clifford Anderson. I want to strike the blow myself.