martini, it's your turn!
martini!
does he have an appointment?
i'm a busy man!
what are you doing?
your turn, martini!
martini, throw a card!
no, throw a club!
don't you have any clubs?
let me see your hand!
well, if you gentlemen will excuse me, i have some pressing matters to attend to.
yes, that's perfectly correct.
yes, miss ratched, this is correct.
no, miss ratched.
yes, that is correct.
i can only speculate as to the reasons why.
miss ratched. given all the conditions of that sublime relationship, coupled with the subsequent annihilation of all that i held to be sacred, mentally, physically and emotionally, the only thing that i can speculate on, at this late date, is how i will justify the very existence of my life, with or without my dear wife.
the point is, i will carry on until i fully understand what the function of that relationship is regardless of form or content.
that's a matter of opinion.
is that your sense of humor or are you trying to say something?
i don't know. i don't know, but it makes me feel very peculiar when you throw in something like that.
i hesitate to go on.
i mean, the other day you made an allusion to my wife and the possible sexual problems we might be having. i know that to be the case, but the way in which you broached it, if that's your idea of teaching me something.
 or making me aware of a condition in my life, then i say, categorically speaking, the hell with you, taber! i don't have to justify the condition of my life to you or any of you. no matter what i will carry on until i fully understand what that function is regardless of the form or content. regardless of the fact we must try to understand the function of our capacity to obtain, to personify the condition, the condition of our existence, our existence.
a pecking party?
it's as simple as that. you've been on our ward six hours and have already simplified the work of freud, jung and maxwell jones in one grand analogy: it's a pecking party.
did to me?
miss ratched is a competent psychiatric nurse, not some, some kind of monster pecking out our eyes!
electro-shock therapy, my friend. five cents' worth of electricity and you are out of everybody's hair.
and if you persist in your ways, they can always ship you over to medical surgery.
lobotomy!
that!
now, what would i be trying to say?
why didn't you tell her to go to hell, lover boy?
i don't see you scoring any points, buddy. and you're just the man for the job, right?
she's not all that homely, mister mcmurphy. in fact, she must have been a rather beautiful young lady.
yes, thank you, miss ratched. since our last meeting i have been reflecting, quite seriously, on the nature of my problem. naturally, i'm referring to the capacity to obtain the necessary results in order to obtain.  no, no. to personify the very existence of that relationship regardless of the function.  regardless of the function, we will confront the question of.  yes. yes. the question of.  existence.  relationship.  function.  confront.  yes, confronting us in the moment of deepest crisis.  yes, the crisis of our souls. of our souls, which i am trying to fully understand the problem.  the problem. not to shut ourselves off, but somehow.  somehow to understand fully our capacity.  to obtain.  to personify.  the question.  existence depends.  depends on the question.  to reflect.  to reflect.
to reflect.
a baseball game isn't worth the risk, my friend.
and how do you propose to accomplish that little feat, my friend?
you mean you're going to try to pick that thing up and shove it through the window?
with your own two hands?
twenty-five dollars.
okay, sucker.
giving up?
leave him alone, he's pouting.
he can't hear you!
so why are you talking to him?
it doesn't help him.
well, i think you're just confusing him.
what for?
that's nice. send me a post card.
no!
i'm not running a charity ward.
what's your plan, mack?
what are you talking about??? everybody was covered!!! everybody was covered!!!
pass the ball! pass it! pass it! pass it! i'm open, mcmurphy, pass the ball!
mack, get back here!
i refuse!
no!
i just started!
i don't trust you!
mcmurphy, pass the ball!
sure, mack.
okay, suckers, place your bets.
big ace.  a lovely lady.  another ace.  an' a little trey, hey, hey, whadaya say.  hit or sit?
big king, too bad.
hear what?
when?
who told you that?
is it true mcmurphy killed two attendants and escaped yesterday?
yeah.