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John : Do I know you?
Marcee : My uncle says you're very smart
but not very nice, so I shouldn't pay
no mind if you're
mean to me.
John : And who might your uncle be?
Charles : The prodigal roommate...
returns. Come here. My sister got herself killed in a car crash. Not too far
now, Marcee! Her cowboy husband was too drunk to know that he was too drunk to
drive. So, I took
her in.
John : She's so small.
Charles : Oh, she's young, John. That's
how they come. I'm at
Harvard, doing the great author's workshop. D.H. Bloody Lawrence.
John : I really do think you should buy
yourself a new book.
Charles : Well, I've been reading a lot
about you. How are you, John?
John : At first all my work here was
trivial, but a new assignment came up and-- I can't really tell you any details.
Charles : Top secret? Black
bag? Black ops?
John : Something like that. And, uh...
Charles : Yeah?
John : Well, I-- I met a girl.
Charles : No! A human girl?
John : Homo sapiens.
Charles : A biped?
John : Yup. And contrary to all
probabilities, she finds me attractive on a number of different levels.
Charles : Really? God, that's wonderful.
Vow, there's
no accounting for taste, is there?
John : Should I marry her?
Charles : Oh, God. Right.
John : I mean, everything's going well.
The job is fine. I have enough money. It all seems to add up. How do you know
for sure?
Charles : Nothing's ever for sure, John.
That's the only sure thing I do know.
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