don't have a fucking coronary, lenny.
sorry.
with all the blood i guess they didn't see the rig. guy had it under a wig.
i got ways, lenny, i got ways. okay, okay.  i got a deal with some a the paramedics. my guy pages me and i pick it up at the morgue. so whaddya think? this clip's gotta be worth at least a grand. right?
fuck that! the last part's the best. you dry-dive six stories and blammo! jack right into the big black.
yeah, when did that start? come on, man! it's what people want to see, and you know it.
come on, lenny. i got expenses. i got to get this rig fixed. look at it.
give me six at least. this's a good clip, here. gets you pumpin'.
now that is cold, lenny. i always bring you choice.
hey, you're always saying, 'bring me real life. bring me street life. and, like, one man's mundane and desperate existence is another man's technicolor.'
ha! that's for fucking sure.
whoa. that is one unbelievable piece of eyefuck.
well.  the guy's fucked up.
no, i mean the killer's got some kind of distortion in his visual cortex. the color and gray-scale values are all messed up, like color blindness.
lookit, you see the peak period ratios there? could be some kind of tumor or brain lesion or something. some kind of trauma this is not good. i don't like this at all.
well, it's cutting awful close to me. i mean she was just here.
iris, man. pay attention.
yeah, she came by last night. shaking like a junkie, wanting me to make a copy of some clip.
i don't know, man, she wouldn't let me see it. said i wouldn't want to see it. she said she was going to give it to you to hold for her. like insurance or somethin'