R.S.V.P.2002/I

Hal:
You know, for a big brain Nick, you're awfully f***ing stupid.

Nick:
Smart enough to beat you.

Hal:
*Beat?* Hah! Sh*t, boy! Did you ever stop for f***ing one goddamn minute and take a good arm's length look at the f***ing situation, eh? You're nothin' but a show, my friend - a little experiment that I've privately undertaken, that I readily admit's gone a *wee* bit wrong. Right, question: how much bullshit do I have to fill an overly-intelligent, but f***ing emotionally retarded kid's head with before he steps, or in Nick's case *leaps*, with both feet *and* a kitchen sink, over the edge?

Jordan:
Evidentally, not f***ing much!

Hal:
Just whispered f***ing sweet nothings about murder and mayhem into his ear and three semesters later, he's got his best friend stuffed into a box, man. Jesus, kid, wake the f*** up! You're not in control here, I am, always have been!