garcianacho/Scripts · Datasets at Hugging Face

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Listen, the mud soup and the charcoal arugula are outrageous here.
Yeah, well, you're late.
Hey, I'm a child of divorce. Give me a break Hmmm, I see they've omitted the pork loin with lime jello.
We should've gone to Dorsia. I could've gotten us a table.
Nobody goes there anymore.
So, wasn't Rothschild originally handling the Fisher account? How did you get it?
I could tell you that, Halberstam, but then I'd have to kill you.
And Cecelia, how is she? Where is she tonight?
Cecelia is, well...you know
Evelyn. Great ass. Goes out with that loser Patrick Bateman. What a dork.
Another Martini, Paul?
Paul, give me your Amex card. Good boy. Bateman slaps the card down, looks at the check.
Twohundredandfifty. Very reasonable. Let's leave a big tip, shall we? My place hr a nightcap?
No, man. I'm gonna bail.
Come on, you dumb son of a bitch. I've got a preview of the Barneys catalogue and a bottle of Absolut waiting for us.
You like Huey Lewis and the News?
They're okay. BATEMAN Their early work was a little too New Wave for my taste. But then Sports came out in 1983, I think they really came into their own, commercially and artistically.
Hey, Halberstam?
Yes, Owen?
Why are there copies of the Style section all over the place? Do you have a dog? A chow or something?
No, Owen.
Is that a raincoat?
Yes, it is.
I'm so hungry.
It's cold out, too, isn't it?
I'm so hungry.
Why don't you get a job? If you're so hungry, why don't you get a job?
I lost my job...
Why? Were you drinking? Is that why you lost it? Insider trading? Just joking. No, reallywere you drinking on the job?
Gee, uh, that's too bad.
I'm so hungry.
Why don't you get another one? Why don't , you get another job?
I'm not...
You're not what? Qualified for anything else?
I'm hungry
I know that, I know that. Jeez, you're like a broken record. I'm trying to help you.
I'm hungry.
Listen, do you think it's fair to take money from people who do have jobs? From people who do work?
What am I gonna do?
Listen, what's your name?
Al.
Speak up. Come on.
Al.
Get a goddamn job, Al. You've got a negative attitude. That's what's stopping you. You've got to get your act together. I'll help you.
You re so kind, mister. You're kind. You're a kind man. I can tell.
Shhhh...it's okay.
Please...I don know what to do. I'm so cold.
Do ,you know how bad you smell? The stench, my God.
I can't...I can't find a shelter
You reek. You reek of...shit. Do you know that? Goddammit, Allook at me and stop crying like some kind of faggot. Al...I'm sorry.
Listen, John, I've got to go. T Boone Pickens just walked in... Just joking... No don't tip the owner of the salon. Okay, John, right, got it. Sorry about that.
No, I'm sorry. I should've made an appointment. Was that anything important?
Oh that? Just mulling over business problems. Examining opportunities...Exchanging rumors... Spreading gossip.
Hi. I'm Donald KIMBALL
Hi. Pat Bateman. Nice to meet you.
I'm sorry to barge in on you like this. but I was supposed to talk to Luis Carruthers and he wasn't in and...well, you're here, so...I know how busy you guys can get.
So, what's the topic of discussion?
I've been hired by Meredith Powell to investigate the disappearance of Paul Owen.
You're not with the FBI or anything, are you?
Nothing like that. I'm just a private investigator.
Ah, I see...Yes. Paul's disappearance...Yes.
So it's nothing that official. I just have some basic questions. About Paul Owen. About yourself
Coffee?
No. I'm okay.
Perrier? San Pellegrino?
No, I'm okay.
KIMBALL.
Mr. Kimball a bottle of San Pelle
Oh no, I'm okay.
It's no problem
Well, what's the topic of discussion?
The disappearance of Paul Owen.
Oh right. Well, I haven't heard anything about the disappearance or anything... Not on "Page Six" at least.
I think his family wants this kept quiet.
Understandable. Lime?
No, really. I'm okay.
You sure? I can always get you a lime.
Just some preliminary questions that I need for my own files, okay?
Shoot.
How old are you?
Twentysix. I'll be twentyseven in October.
Where did you go to school?
Harvard. The Harvard Business School.
Your address?
Fiftyfive West EightyFirst Street. The American Gardens Building.
Nice. Very nice.
Thanks.
Pardon me, but are you okay?
Who do you ask?
You seem...nervous.
Bad habit.
I know. I'm sorry.
Would you rather I not smoke?
No, I guess it's okay.
You sure?
No problem.
What can you tell me about Paul Owen?
Well...
How well did you know him?
I'm...at a loss. He was part of that whole...Yale thing, you know.

Listen, the mud soup and the charcoal arugula are outrageous here.

Yeah, well, you're late.

Hey, I'm a child of divorce. Give me a break Hmmm, I see they've omitted the pork loin with lime jello.

We should've gone to Dorsia. I could've gotten us a table.

Nobody goes there anymore.

So, wasn't Rothschild originally handling the Fisher account? How did you get it?

I could tell you that, Halberstam, but then I'd have to kill you.

And Cecelia, how is she? Where is she tonight?

Cecelia is, well...you know

Evelyn. Great ass. Goes out with that loser Patrick Bateman. What a dork.

Another Martini, Paul?

Paul, give me your Amex card. Good boy. Bateman slaps the card down, looks at the check.

Twohundredandfifty. Very reasonable. Let's leave a big tip, shall we? My place hr a nightcap?

No, man. I'm gonna bail.

Come on, you dumb son of a bitch. I've got a preview of the Barneys catalogue and a bottle of Absolut waiting for us.

You like Huey Lewis and the News?

They're okay. BATEMAN Their early work was a little too New Wave for my taste. But then Sports came out in 1983, I think they really came into their own, commercially and artistically.

Hey, Halberstam?

Yes, Owen?

Why are there copies of the Style section all over the place? Do you have a dog? A chow or something?

No, Owen.

Is that a raincoat?

Yes, it is.

I'm so hungry.

It's cold out, too, isn't it?

I'm so hungry.

Why don't you get a job? If you're so hungry, why don't you get a job?

I lost my job...

Why? Were you drinking? Is that why you lost it? Insider trading? Just joking. No, reallywere you drinking on the job?

Gee, uh, that's too bad.

I'm so hungry.

Why don't you get another one? Why don't , you get another job?

I'm not...

You're not what? Qualified for anything else?

I'm hungry

I know that, I know that. Jeez, you're like a broken record. I'm trying to help you.

I'm hungry.

Listen, do you think it's fair to take money from people who do have jobs? From people who do work?

What am I gonna do?

Listen, what's your name?

Al.

Speak up. Come on.

Al.

Get a goddamn job, Al. You've got a negative attitude. That's what's stopping you. You've got to get your act together. I'll help you.

You re so kind, mister. You're kind. You're a kind man. I can tell.

Shhhh...it's okay.

Please...I don know what to do. I'm so cold.

Do ,you know how bad you smell? The stench, my God.

I can't...I can't find a shelter

You reek. You reek of...shit. Do you know that? Goddammit, Allook at me and stop crying like some kind of faggot. Al...I'm sorry.

Listen, John, I've got to go. T Boone Pickens just walked in... Just joking... No don't tip the owner of the salon. Okay, John, right, got it. Sorry about that.

No, I'm sorry. I should've made an appointment. Was that anything important?

Oh that? Just mulling over business problems. Examining opportunities...Exchanging rumors... Spreading gossip.

Hi. I'm Donald KIMBALL

Hi. Pat Bateman. Nice to meet you.

I'm sorry to barge in on you like this. but I was supposed to talk to Luis Carruthers and he wasn't in and...well, you're here, so...I know how busy you guys can get.

So, what's the topic of discussion?

I've been hired by Meredith Powell to investigate the disappearance of Paul Owen.

You're not with the FBI or anything, are you?

Nothing like that. I'm just a private investigator.

Ah, I see...Yes. Paul's disappearance...Yes.

So it's nothing that official. I just have some basic questions. About Paul Owen. About yourself

Coffee?

No. I'm okay.

Perrier? San Pellegrino?

No, I'm okay.

KIMBALL.

Mr. Kimball a bottle of San Pelle

Oh no, I'm okay.

It's no problem

Well, what's the topic of discussion?

The disappearance of Paul Owen.

Oh right. Well, I haven't heard anything about the disappearance or anything... Not on "Page Six" at least.

I think his family wants this kept quiet.

Understandable. Lime?

No, really. I'm okay.

You sure? I can always get you a lime.

Just some preliminary questions that I need for my own files, okay?

Shoot.

How old are you?

Twentysix. I'll be twentyseven in October.

Where did you go to school?

Harvard. The Harvard Business School.

Your address?

Fiftyfive West EightyFirst Street. The American Gardens Building.

Nice. Very nice.

Thanks.

Pardon me, but are you okay?

Who do you ask?

You seem...nervous.

Bad habit.

I know. I'm sorry.

Would you rather I not smoke?

No, I guess it's okay.

You sure?

No problem.

What can you tell me about Paul Owen?

Well...

How well did you know him?

I'm...at a loss. He was part of that whole...Yale thing, you know.