yes. clarify.
you'll look like you consciously worked for the look.
it looks that way, doesn't it?
he took them away because the portions are so small he probably thought we were finished. god, i hate this place. this is a chicks' restaurant. why aren't we at dorsia?
are you freebasing or what? that's not robinson.
that's paul owen.
some weasel from kicker peabody.
yes. mcdufus, i am.
lucky bastard.
the voice of reason. the boy next door. and speaking of reasonable.
you take amex, dude?
there's this theory out now that if you can catch the aids virus through having sex with someone who is infected, then you can also catch anything-alzheimer's, muscular dystrophy, hemophilia, leukemia, diabetes, dyslexia, for christ's sake-you can get dyslexia from pussy-
oh, who knows? they don't know that. prove it.
i'm shaking. you open it.
jeez. that's not a helluva lot, is it?
is he fucking selling it by the milligram? oh my god.
it's a fucking milligram of sweet'n low!
i want to get high off this; bateman, not sprinkle it on my fucking all-bran.
shut up!
i guess you're right.  that is, if the faggot in the next stall thinks it's okay!
no, fuck you!! sorry, dude. steroids. okay, let's do it.
the menu's in braille.
i have to talk to you.
oh, who gives a rat's ass?
oh ho ho. that affects us? what about the massacres in sri lanka, honey? doesn't that affect us, too? i mean don't you know anything about sri lanka? about how the sikhs are killing like tons of israelis there? doesn't that affect us?
like what?
listen, paul. squash?
how about friday?
jesus. dorsia? on a friday night? how'd he swing that?
what's that, a gram?
that's really nice.
jesus. this is really super. how'd a nitwit like you get so tasteful?
but wait. you ain't seen nothin' yet.
raised lettering, pale nimbus white.
i have to talk to these girls? they're models.
let's have a conversation. so. it was hot out today, no?
well, gorbachev is downstairs. mcdermott is going to sign a peace treaty with him between the united states and russia. mcdermott's the one behind glasnost, you know.
you're not confused, are you?
yes, caron's right. gorbachev's not downstairs. he's at tunnel.
i'm leaving. i'm getting out.
this.
listen to me, patrick. i'm leaving.
i'm leaving! i. am. leaving!
no, you dumb son of a bitch. i'm serious. i'm disappearing.
goodbye! fuckheads!
keep your shirt on. maybe lose the suspenders.
how can he lie like that? how can he pull that shit?
i don't believe it. he looks so. normal. he seems so.  out of it. so. undangerous.
i just don't see how someone, anyone, can appear that way and yet be involved in such total shit. how can you be so fucking, i don't know, cool about it?
and bateman, what are you so fucking zany about?
oh brother look-he presents himself as a harmless old codger. but inside.
but inside.
bateman? come on, what do you think?