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Dataset card Data Studio Files
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I don't think he's breathing.
Oh, God... !
Don't just stand there, get help!
This can't be real...
He's pissing his pants. Is that real enough for you? Call 911!
Alright... okay...
He's turning blue!
This is nuts.
What <u>is</u> your problem?
Ten minutes ago, I'm looking forward to a quiet dinner. I get a note...
Let's talk to whoever can get this over with...
Hold on... They want your driver's license number.
You've got to be kidding.
What... is... happening... ?
I was trying to tell you... it's a game.
A game?
It's run by a company... they play elaborate pranks. Things like this. I'm really only now finding out myself.
What are you talking about?
The lights went out, one hundred people all ran away...
You mean, the guy who turned blue and <u>wet</u> himself... ?
I'm sorry, about this...
You should be.
There's got to be a flashlight.
I don't understand why they're getting you involved.
See you around.
Where are you going?
Home.
How do you know that's the way?
Where'd you all go? Motherfucking frat boys. You better hide. Is your life so pathetic that this is something you're willing to pay for?
It was a gift... from my brother.
How thoughtful. The gift of inconvenience.
Long story. I found this key in the mouth of a wooden Harlequin.
Never mind.
Don't even think about it.
Why not?
Read what it says: "Warning, do <u>not</u> attempt to open. If elevator stops, use emergency... "
If there was one.
"... wait for help." Wait for help. I'm not opening a door that specifically warns me not to.
Are you suggesting we wait till someone finds us?
I'll give you a boost.
You first.
This isn't an attempt to be gallant. If I don't lift you, how are you going to get there?
You pull me up.
It's much easier this way. Come on, step up...
No.
Please...
I'm not wearing underwear. Okay? There, I said it. Satisfied.
Oh. FIne.
There's a ladder here.
My hero. Let's go.
I'll wait.
It's not like anyone could actually open it.
This is C.R.S.
What's C.R.S.?
Consumer Recreation Services. It's their building. They...
Don't panic. When security gets here, we simply explain what happened...
They'll love that.
Yes... well...
You deserted me.
You're a grown man. I'm not responsible for you.
You're the one who started running.
Me? You're the one who... ! Shit!
There goes a thousand dollars.
Your <u>shoes</u> cost a thousand dollars?
That one did.
... two hundred dollars a toe.
Never did catch your name.
Nicholas. Nicholas Van Orton.
Nicholas Van Orton? What are you, a czar?
That's classic.
Why... ?
We hang down here and drop. The garbage'll break our fall.
I think not.
Where are we going?
That tall, bright building. Near there.
What exactly do you do?
Investment banking. Moving money from place to place.
Nice.
Hm? Oh, yes.
A fresh shirt...
If this was my office, I wouldn't keep that closed.
I don't spend much time looking out the window. I'll call you a taxi.
I know the owner of Campton Place. I could talk to him in the morning.
Don't. It was a shitty job anyway. I overreacted.
Goodnight.
I don't think I've ever spent this much time with someone who didn't even ask my name.
The maitre d' called you Christine.
Right. Call me Christy.
Goodnight, Christy. It was nice meeting you.
Give me an address so I can send your shirt back.
Keep it.
I have a confession to make. Someone gave me sixhundred dollars to spill drinks on you, as a practical joke.
Seriously? What did they say?
They said five hundred. I said six. They said the man in the gray flannel suit. I think I said, you mean the attractive guy in the gray flannel suit?
What are you doing here?
Can we talk?
It's okay, dad.
Didn't think I'd ever see you again.
Come here...
What is it?