text
stringlengths
1
3.04k
That's not Paul Owen. Paul Owen's on the other side of the room. Over there.
There's this theory out now that if you can catch the AIDS virus through having sex with someone who is infected, then you can also catch anythingAlzheimer's, muscular dystrophy, hemophilia, leukemia, diabetes, dyslexia, for Christ's sakeyou can get dyslexia from pussy
I'm not sure, guy, but I don't think dyslexia is a virus.
Oh, who knows? They don't know that. Prove it.
Jeez. That's not a helluva lot, is it?
Maybe it's just the light.
Is he fucking selling it by the milligram? Oh my God...
What?
It's a fucking milligram of Sweet'n Low!
It's definitely weak but I have a feeling if we do enough of it we'll be okay.
I want to get high off this; Bateman, not sprinkle it on my fucking AllBran.
SHUT UP!
Calm down. Let's do it anyway
I guess you're right... THAT IS, IF THE FAGGOT IN THE NEXT STALL THINKS IT'S OKAY!
Oh come on. Price. There are a lot more important problems than Sri Lanka to worry about. Sure our foreign policy is important, but there are more pressing problems at hand.
Like what?
Well, we have to end apartheid for one. And slow down the nuclear arms race, stop terrorism and world hunger. But we can't ignore our social needs. either We have to stop people from abusing the welfare system. We have to provide food and shelter for the homeless and oppose racial discrimination and promote civil rights while also promoting equal rights for women but change the abortion laws to protect the right to life yet still somehow maintain women's freedom of choice.
What's that, a gram?
New card. What do you think?
I can't believe that Price prefers McDermott's card to mine.
But wait. You ain't seen nothin' yet.
Raised lettering, pale nimbus white...
Impressive. Very nice. Let's see Paul Owen's card.
Yes, Caron's right. Gorbachev's not downstairs. He's at Tunnel.
Ask me a question.
I'm leaving. I'm getting out.
Leaving what?
This.
Don't, I'll drink it.
Listen to me, Patrick. I'm leaving.
Where to? Are you going to go get a gram?
I'm leaving! I...am...leaving!
Don't tell me...merchant banking?
No, you dumb son of a bitch. I'm serious. I'm disappearing.
Where to? Morgan Stanley? Rehab? What?
And Bateman, what are YOU SO fucking zany about?
I'm just a happy camper. Rockin' and arollin'. VAN PATTEN Rehab's done wonders for you, pal. Working for UNICEF now?
Patrick, thanks so much for looking after Courtney. Dorsia, how impressive! How on earth did you get a reservation there?
Lucky, I guess.
That's a wonderful jacket. Let me guess, Valentino Couture?
Uh huh.
It looks so soft.
Your compliment was sufficient Luis.
Patrick? Is that you?
No, Luis. It's not me. You're mistaken.
This is Gwendolyn Ichiban. This is my very good friend Patrick Bateman. Where are you going? We're going to Nell's. Gwendolyn's father's buying it. Where did you get your overnight bag?
Commes des Garcon.
Call me please, Patrick.
Jesus lives, Luis.
What...is...it?
Where are you going?
I've gotta...I've gotta...return some videotapes.
Patrick?
What? CARRUTHERS I'll call you.
Excuse me, gentlemen. Right back. He approaches Carnes cautiously.
Face itthe Japanese will own most of this country by the end of the '90s.
Jesus, Davis. Yes. That was hilarious. That was you, wasn't it?
Yes, naturally.
Bateman killing Owen and the escort girls? Oh that s fabulous. That's rich...
It was a pretty long message, wasn't it?
What exactly do you mean?
The message you left.
By the way Davis, how is Cynthia? You're still seeing her, right?
But wait, Harold, what do you mean?
Carnes? Wait.
Davis. I'm not one to badmouth anyone, your joke was amusing. But come on, man, you had one fatal flaw: Bateman's such a dork, such a boring, spineless lightweight, that I couldn't fully appreciate it. I wasn't fooled for a second. Now, if you'd said Price, or McDermott...Otherwise, it was amusing. Now, let's have lunch or dinner or something. Hilarious, Davis. A killer.
What are you talking about? Bateman is what?
Oh Christ. He can barely pick up an escort girl, let alone...what was it you said he did to her?
Now, if you'll excuse me, I really must...
Wait. Stop. You don't seem to understand. You're not really comprehending any of this. I killed him. I did it, Carnes. I'm Patrick Bateman. I chopped Owen's fucking head off. I tortured dozens of girls. The whole message I left on your machine was true.
Excuse me. I really must he going.
No! Listen, don't you know who I am? I'm not Davis, I'm Patrick Bateman! I talk to you on the phone all the time! Don't you recognize me? You're my lawyer.
Now, Carnes, listen to me. Listen very, very carefully. I killed Paul Owen and I liked it. I can't make myself any clearer
But that's simply not possible. And I don't find this funny anymore.
It never was supposed to he! Why isn't it possible?
It's just not.
Why not, you stupid bastard?
Because I had dinner with Paul Owen twice in London...just ten days ago.
No, you...didn't?
Now, if you'll excuse me.
Are you my two o'clock?
No.
Can I help you?
I'm looking for...Paul Owen's...place.
Doesn't he live here?
No, he doesn't.
Are you sure?
You saw the ad in the Times?
No. Yes. I mean yes, I did. In the Times. But... doesn't Paul Owen still live here?
There was no ad in the Times.
I think you should go now.
But I think...I want to know what happened here.
Don't make any trouble. Please. I suggest you go.
Don't come back.
I won't...don't worry.
You'll notice that my friends and I all look and behave in a remarkably similar fashion, but there are subtle differences between us. McDermott is the biggest asshole. Van Patten is the yes man. Price is the most wired. I'm the best looking. We all have light tans. Right now I'm in a bad mood because this is not a good table, and Van Patten keeps asking dumb, obvious questions about how to dress .
What are the rules for a sweater vest?
Picked them up from the printers yesterday
Good coloring.
That's bone. And the lettering is something called Silian Rail.