Alien invader: You – think!? In my world, only we are allowed that luxury!
Alien invader: We – shall I be specific? – feed on brains. Unfortunately, they don’t last very long.
Alien invader: Hate and madness are the keys to power in my world!
Deputy sheriff: That loony of yours has gone mad!
Beware of the blob
Across the floor
Right through the door
And all around the wall
Be careful of the blob!
(Repeat as required)
Patient’s sister [reading aloud]: Dr Sigmund Walters of Crestview Sanatorium has furthered not one but three attempts at racial improvement, for he has discovered Vitamin E-2, which he believes determines the physical characteristics of all forms of animal life, the 48 chromosomes which pattern heredity, and numerous hormones…
Patient’s sister: After we were through talking, I realised we were lucky to get him – because he really is a very famous scientist…besides being one of the most charming men I ever met.
Scientist: It’s been proved beyond doubt that glands can transform physical matter into any size, shape or appearance.
Scientist: If we’ve been able to create, through the medium of glandular extraction, such specimens as we have, what’s to prevent us transfusing these glandular extractions from a human being into a higher type of animal?
Assistant: The authorities! They wouldn’t permit it!
Scientist: I see you’re not truly a scientist at heart…
Assistant: Look at this girl, doctor! Slowly but surely you’re sapping the life out of her! It’s murder, doctor – you can’t do it!
Scientist: Why should a single life be considered so important?
Assistant: For thirteen years I’ve worked with you – shared your experiments – watched you gain the highest honours in the field of endocrinology! I’ve seen you gain control over the physical characteristics of men, and change the breed and sex of animals. I’ve listened to your dreams of creating a race of supermen!
Scientist: Isn’t that a laudable intent?
Assistant: But while you’ve been doing this, you’ve lost sight of something else – yourself! I saw it start, and watched it grow; watched a brain that once was fine and brilliant begin to warp, and tamper with things no man or woman should ever touch!
Assistant: Now you propose to experiment with an ape and a woman! That woman must eventually die!
Scientist: Then she’ll die in the advancement of science!
Scientist: I operated on you! Grafted glands from a living woman into your body, watched you transform! Now I have to do it all over again – graft new glands into your body! Maybe another brain operation…
Scientist: You’re about to witness something that no human eyes have ever seen – the transformation of an animal into a human being!
Commander: We have passed the 2000 mile level, are travelling in space. Speed: 7 miles per second; motors: smooth; fuel consumption: point oh-eight-six-five; temperature of atom chamber: unchanged; nitrate pictate acid: secure!
Mission control: Wait a minute, Commander! There’s a world full of people listening in! Are you all right? Could we have a few words from the crew?
Co-pilot: We’re weighed down at the right—something’s embedded in our rear section!
Commander: The atom chamber!
Engineer: Heat radiation going up fast!
Navigator: Must be a meteor. Can we shake it?
Commander: Maybe centrifugal force will dislodge it!
Commander: For the rest of this journey, we operate strictly by the book! The planners of this mission have foreseen every contingency.
Navigator: We hope.
Commander: We do more than hope! We work with confidence!
Co-pilot: I’m okay. Go talk to Laird.
Co-pilot: Go on. After all, you’re his girl.
Navigator: For the duration of this trip, the only relationship I have with the Commander is a scientific one. This is no time to tamper with the emotions.
Co-pilot: I bet you got that from him.
Navigator: It’s true.
Co-pilot: It’s hooey! You can’t turn love on and off like a faucet! Believe me, baby, if I ever fell in love with you, I’d chase you across the world, around the moon, and all the way stations in between! Aw, go on, beat it!
Commander: Helen, who is Alpha?
Commander: On the radio you said, ‘Alpha, we’re on our way’.
Navigator: I don’t remember saying that!
Commander: Probably just a touch of space madness!
Commander: You’d better pick your landing spot and start figuring.
Navigator: I already have. We’re on course.
Commander: That’s what I call a navigator!
Navigator: It’s a valley on the dark side of the moon.
Commander: The dark side? How could you possibly know anything about the dark side? All man has ever seen is the bright side.
Navigator: Well, the bright side cuts across a part of this valley. You can just barely see it on the photographs.
Commander: Why there? We planned to study the bright side and then circle to the dark side!
Navigator: Please, Laird! This is a perfect landing spot, believe me! I don’t know why I know it, but—I know it for sure.
Commander: Well, you’re the navigator.
Co-pilot: Without any oxygen, what can you possibly want with cigarettes!?
Navigator: I feel more at home carrying them.
Co-pilot: Ha, ha, ha, ha!
Commander: Almost as silly as that gun, Kip. You know there’s no life on the moon!
Co-pilot: I guess I’m like Helen: I feel more at home that way!
Navigator: I wish you’d tell him not to, Laird! Either we’re on a scientific expedition, or we’re a bunch of boy scouts on an outing!
Commander: There’s too much infantile romanticism in this crew!
Co-pilot: Laird, look! Moisture!
Radio operator: How can there be water without atmosphere!?
Commander: Impossible! Maybe it’s something that only looks like water!
Co-pilot: The scientist doesn’t know enough to come in out of the rain! Laird, did it ever occur to you that maybe this is atmosphere?
Commander: On the moon!?
Co-pilot: Could be why it’s hard for us to walk! Where there’s atmosphere, there’s got to be gravitational pull to hold it! Even I know that!
Commander: Magnetic field on the dark side…could exert a…gravitational pull, if… A special one… Uh… ’Course, we’d have to…uh…verify it…
Engineer: And this is a natural decompression chamber, isn’t it, sir?
(Douglas Fowley earns his “Dialogue Director”’s credit)
First Cat-Woman: We need no language. We are capable of projecting our thoughts great distances – as you well know. Someday we will teach you. In the meantime, we will speak your tongue, just as we speak all Earth’s tongues.
Second Cat-Woman: Don’t forget, our generation pre-dates yours by centuries!
Navigator: What you taught me about celestial navigation made me look like quite a genius! But—why me, Alpha, and not the others?
Cat-Woman: Hmmph! We have no use for men!
Navigator: My knowledge is limited to navigation. Can you run the ship without them?
First Cat-Woman: They will teach us how.
Navigator: But you said you had no control over them
Second Cat-Woman: Show us their weak points—we’ll take care of the rest!
Commander: Helen! They speak English!
Navigator: Theirs is an ancient culture! Their communication system is far in advance to ours!
Cat-Woman [falling in lurrve]: I’d like that “driving down to the beach” bit—stretching out on the sand—just a boy and a girl together—and—and maybe what you call a—a Coke.
Co-pilot: Now, then, which side are you on?
Navigator: I didn’t know we had sides!
Co-pilot: I’m convinced you deliberately led us into this! I’d be very happy if you’d unconvince me!
Navigator: I don’t know what you mean!
Co-pilot [grabbing her by the shoulders]: Look, Helen—I have a very high regard for you! You’re smart, you have courage—and you’re all woman! – and if it hadn’t been for Laird, I would have tried to make it you and me a long time ago!
Navigator: Flattery will get you no place!
(He grabs her hand)
Navigator: Get your big hands off me!!
Co-pilot: Not until you level with me! [She moans, collapsing against him] Oh, come on, now! I’m not hurting you that much!
Navigator: Don’t let go, Kip!
Co-pilot: Helen, what’s the matter?
Navigator: Danger, Kip! They want to kill you! They’ll take the ship, and they’ll make me go with them!
Co-pilot: Well, how?
Navigator: They can, Kip! They control me!
Co-pilot: Control you!?
Navigator: Even with Laird! I liked you best—but Laird knew more, so they wanted me with him!
Co-pilot: They don’t control you now, do they?
Navigator: No! But hang on! Hold on tight!
Co-pilot: You’re doggone right I will! You’re DOG-GONE right!
(They kiss passionately)
Co-pilot: How do these Cat-Women intend to play their hand?
Navigator: Not for a few days.
Cat-Woman [demonstrating her knowledge of the rocketship]: In other words—this controls this, in a ratio of six-to-one; the speed control retardant; the stabiliser; and the cut-off!
Engineer: You’re too smart for me, baby—I like ’em stupid!
Cat-Woman: Please, save yourself!
Radio operator: From what?
Cat-Woman: From me! Because I love you, Doug! – and yet I must kill you!
Radio operator: I love you, too, Lambda! – and I’m not afraid!
First Cat-Woman: Four of us will be enough! We will get their women under our power—and soon we will rule the whole world!
Second Cat-Woman: But I don’t want to rule the world! I want to live on it, just like the Earth people do!
First Cat-Woman: Lambda, we are coming into a new situation. We must bring our culture to Earth!
Second Cat-Woman: No!
Third Cat-Woman: She’s fallen in love with the radio operator!
First Cat-Woman: Is that true?
Second Cat-Woman: And what if it is?
First Cat-Woman: There is no room in your life for love! We will choose your man eugenically! You and Beta will have girl children fit to carry on! The best of the Earth mongrels will be none too good!
Commander: We were just talking shop. Anything wrong with that?
Co-pilot: No, not a thing—except that the Cat-Women are planning to steal our ship, and Helen’s tied body and soul to them!
Navigator: That’s a lie!
Commander: I resent that, Kip! What’s your evidence?
Co-pilot: Well, for one thing, Doug got the dope from little Lambda. For another, Helen told me herself. We were out on the terrace, and she told me to hold her tight. Not to kiss her; just to hold her ha—
(Light dawns; he grabs her hand)
Navigator: Let go of my hand!!
Co-pilot: Not this time, baby!
Navigator [collapsing against him and moaning]: Oh…thank you, Kip!
Co-pilot: Now—let’s set the record straight: are you in love with Laird?
Co-pilot: And were you bleeding him for information to pass onto Alpha?
Co-pilot: And who—do you really love?
(They kiss passionately)
Expert: Let’s get into the protective clothing. I want to go home.
Cop: This hold’s full of coffee!
Expert: ‘UniverX’? Funny name for Columbian coffee. What do you think, Lieutenant?
Cop: How would I know from coffee? I never drink the stuff. What is strange is this ‘X’!
Cop: What do you think they are, doc?
Expert: They could be something like a – a giant squash, or avocado, or some kind of marrow—
Cop: They look like big green eggs to me!
Federal agent: —and as soon as I was informed, I gave orders to totally isolate the pier and place it under absolute maximum security.
Colonel: Good! Put Emergency Plan 7 into effect!
Colonel: Aris! Control yourself!
Cop: You can hear me? You can hear me! You have the nerve to come in here and tell me to control myself? They’ve been giving me a smoke-cure! Wearing me out – washing me down – for six hours! Then they leave me here, freezing my balls off! – and then you come in, and dare to tell me to keep my self-control, baby!?
Colonel: Don’t call me ‘baby’, young man!
Cop: And you don’t call me a young man – babe! It might not show right now, but I’m a police lieutenant – got that?
Colonel: And I’m a colonel. Internal security, responsible directly to the President – Special Division 5!
Colonel: Now – exactly what did you see on board? You talked about eggs – is that correct?
Cop: Uh, well… As a matter of fact, they did look like eggs – but the size of pumpkins! And like footballs!
Colonel: I need one of those eggs immediately! But we’ll have to be very careful how we do it. Call in the Special Section, Squad 2!
Scientist: The first examinations all show the same results: this is not an egg, but an intensive culture of unknown bacteria; pathogenous, perhaps, but definitely deadly!
Scientist: I still don’t know. But what we might define as the egg’s yolk is a pre-set maturisation culture.
Colonel: First we have to find out who was supposed to receive this lethal cargo.
Cop: I already know: it’s an import-export company. No offices, just a warehouse in the Bronx.
Colonel: Oh, my God! Call it intuition – ! I think they plan to put them in the sewers!
Scientist: Since I last saw you, Dr Hilton and I have successfully analysed the yolk of the egg. There! These are segmented dodecadric cells!
First scientist: I don’t believe these belong to our planet.
Colonel: Do you mean…they come from outer space?
Second scientist: Why not? How many worlds are there in the universe? Millions! Perhaps billions! True, they’re millions of light years away; but perhaps a form of life like this doesn’t have the same concept of time that we do. It stays inactive – passive – as long as it’s in the absolute freezing temperature of sidereal space! Then, once it falls into the atmosphere like ours, the seeds germinate, and the eggs grow.
Colonel: A man could quite easily have brought the seeds here!
Scientist: But a man would never do anything like that!
Astronaut: Well, come on, Colonel, what is it you want to know? How many times a week I screw?
Colonel: If you’re always in this condition, it’s quite obvious you couldn’t get it up – even if you used a crane.
Cop: What a waste of a good-looking woman! Is something wrong with her, or is she just married?
Astronaut: Yeah, to a test-tube and a whip. You know, I don’t think the colonel would have been out of place in the snow cave on Mars.
Cop: You know, all women are alike! All over the world! It’s just a matter of handling them properly. Now, I treat all women gently. Don’t worry! I have no intention of trying. I’m warm-blooded – I don’t like the cold!
Cop: We would like to buy a large amount of your coffee. You know, somebody told us that here you toast a very special brand of coffee.
Colonel: Yes! – a very, very special kind!
Possessed human: It’s time for you to come.
Possessed human: To the Cyclops!
Colonel: The Cyclops?
Possessed human: Yes! The Cyclops!
Good scientist: You may be right, Jim. Logically right. But morally in my catalogue of values man comes first. Without man, there wouldn’t even be a science!
Evil scientist: The trouble with you is, you’re not a scientist! You’re a philosopher. In our world, there’s no room for philosophers!
Good scientist: That’s precisely what’s wrong. There’s no place for the philosopher – the man whose sole function it is, just to think. How wonderful to have nothing to do but – just to think…!
Good scientist: Let’s publish what we’ve learned and let it go at that.
Evil scientist: Don’t tell me you can open the door to a great discovery – actually stand on the threshold – and not go any further!
Good scientist: Jim, please! Granted, we’re the only men to introduce phosphorescence into living cell tissue. Nevertheless, it hasn’t been the great boon to surgery we’d expected.
Evil scientist Well, there’s something bigger than that! Can’t you see it?
Good scientist: I see it all too clearly. It is big. Too big! We can’t control it! We’d be releasing energies that would result only in mutations, monstrosities, and death!
Male scientist [introducing his lab mice]: Come over here and meet my favourite characters! See the fat one? That’s Gertrude. She’s a wonderful mother. That skinny one’s Ophelia. She has a suicide complex, poor thing. That chap who’s looking at you so brazenly, he’s a regular old rip! See the plump one? That’s Sandra. She’s a cute little— [He is interrupted by the sound of breaking glass] Where’d she go?
Female scientist: It’s nothing, John.
Male scientist: What do you mean, nothing? People don’t just drop glasses and run out of offices! Or maybe it’s me. Do you think I have five o’clock shadow?
Concerned father: You know, honey, what you need is a nice, long vacation, away from theories, and test-tubes, and guinea-pig cats…
First scientist [picking up cat]: Here he is!
Second scientist: Where do you suppose he was?
First scientist: Probably at the end of the hallway. He loves those little guinea-pigs. But they’re bad for him, so full of flu germs…
Native: My wife! My wife, doctor, she’s dead! Yesterday, she was fine, she was happy, but tonight she turned very white and swift she died!
Female scientist: Of course, I wouldn’t feel qualified, but – if I did hazard a diagnosis, I should say that there were definite symptoms of schizophrenia. Tell me, Nora, don’t you ever find yourself awakening from some horribly realistic dream, in which you were another person? Perhaps not even another person; an animal; a – a cat? And don’t you ever feel, on awakening, that it wasn’t a dream, but true? That you are two separate beings, one the Nora we know, and the other—
(I’m glad she doesn’t feel qualified…)
Female scientist: He’s dead?
Male scientist: Why does this always happen to me!?
Female scientist: How about taking in a movie and dinner?
Male scientist: All right, Gwenn. What time?
Female scientist: You don’t want to go.
Male scientist: I didn’t say I didn’t want to go.
Female scientist: You don’t sound very enthusiastic!
Male scientist: Please don’t try to be difficult.
Female scientist: You’d rather see her, is that it?
Male scientist: Please, Gwenn! I’ll pick you up in half an hour.
Female scientist: Don’t bother! You mean to much to me to be a burden to you.
Male scientist: I’ll see you tomorrow. Maybe you’ll be in a better mood.
Female scientist: I’ll be working tomorrow. And I’ll be working day after tomorrow! From now on, I’ll always be working! That’s all I’m good for anyway, work, work, work! I might as well resign myself to it!
(There’s a reason female scientists don’t date much…)
Evil scientist: I see, burned them. Well, I suppose that was best. Gwenn felt the same way. She destroyed all she could this afternoon—records, formulae, every bit of serum, except this. So I killed her. As I’m going to show you. After all, your father and I worked on it for a long time. It’s only right that you should see. A lot of people stood in my way! – you most of all. For your fathers sentimental weakening, I blame you. I don’t know how much your father told you. Now, I never will know. Nor will anyone else. The others who have seem this are dead. You and I will be the last…
Scientist: I am a scientist, not a madman!
Scientist: I am the White God! I alone hold this tremendous power of good and evil in my hands! If I can control this power, what opportunities are open for humanity? Why, with this knowledge, I could wipe evil away from the world!
Assistant: The serum! Thank God we didn’t use it on a human being!
(Famous last words…)
Assistant: The experiments on the patients prove nothing. They’re already insane. Until you can artificially cause insanity, you can prove nothing.
Doctor: Well, unfortunately, in the state of society today, we are not permitted to experiment on human beings. Normal human beings.
Assistant: I don’t know. It is a question of professional ethics–
Doctor: Oh, indeed, indeed. That is why I shall have to employ someone for whom ethics have no significance.
Mad doctor [addressing his giant bat]: Ah, my friend! Our theory of glandular stimulation through electrical impulses was correct!
Mad doctor: Aren’t you curious about my new formula?
Victim #1: Yes, of course, but I didn’t want to be inquisitive. What is it?
Mad doctor: A new shaving lotion. Smell it!
Victim #1: Pretty strong, isn’t it?
Mad doctor: No, no! The scent evaporates a short time after you’ve used it. Try a few drops. Now, rub it here, on the tender part of your neck! Soothing, isn’t it?
Victim #1: Yes! When will it be ready for the market?
Mad doctor: Oh, it’s still in the experimental stage. I want to try it out on several people first, and see if it works!
Victim #1: Well, if you’d like to send me a bottle, I’d be glad to try it out. Goodnight, Doctor.
Mad doctor: Goodbye, Roy!
Apologetic woman: Look, Don, I’ve loved you a long time, ever since we were kids – but I’m afraid it’s been more like a sister.
Rejected suitor: Well! I had no idea you felt that way!
Editor: Say, have you ever had a date with a girl?
Reporter: A girl? Oh, yes, a girl! I believe I did take a girl out once.
Editor: Well, did she smell sweet?
Reporter: Of course she smelled sweet! Most girls do!
Editor: Well, that’s because of Martin Heath Cosmetics, Ltd. They make all that goo that the women put on their faces so they won’t have to wash with soap and water!
Young woman: Oh, here comes Dr Carruthers! Hello, Doctor.
Mad doctor: Hello, Mary! I took a shortcut from my laboratory through a garden hedge!
Young woman: What do you think of Dr Carruther’s theory about a wild animal, Mr Layton?
Reporter: Well, frankly, I don’t think much of it.
Mad doctor: I can’t say that I blame you. But I, as a scientist, take many things into consideration that a layman might overlook!
Photographer: A little more chiffon, baby!
French maid: I do not understand!
Photographer: Aw, you know what I mean! A little more of your stocking!
French maid [raising her skirt]: Like this?
Photographer: Sure I like ‘em! Who wouldn’t?
Photographer: I’ll be back in a minute, Frenchie! And don’t worry none about those werewolves, ‘cause nothin’s gunna harm ya while I’m around!
French maid: You make Maxine feel so calm – my big, brave journalist!
Victim #2: That feels great! Very soothing!
Mad doctor: I don’t think you’ll ever use anything else!
Reporter: You, my friend, are going to get a shot of the Devil Bat in action!
Photographer: Who, me? How?
Reporter: Have you noticed there’s a taxidermist’s shop in the village?
Photographer: Well, you wouldn’t suggest that I go out and stuff a bird, would you?
Reporter: One-Shot! To think that you would even hint that I would suggest you get the village taxidermist to build you a nice, big bat for pictorial purposes! Besides, a bat isn’t a bird, it’s a mammal.
Photographer: Well, why didn’t you say so in the first place? Where is this bird-stuffing emporium?
Radio broadcaster: I have as my guest in the studio Professor Percival Garland Rains, perhaps the world’s greatest authority on animal life! I am going to interview Professor Rains on the subject of the Devil Bat. Our radio audience can draw its own conclusion. Professor Rains, first let me ask you point blank, do you believe that any such creature as the Devil Bat exists?
Expert: I do not! In the Dark Ages, when men and women lived in caves, there may have existed a bat of this size, but not in this day and age!
(Yup – he’s an expert, all right.)
Police chief: If you suspect Carruthers, you’re barking up the wrong tree, Johnny. He’s the last man in this town that would harm anyone. Why, everybody loves him!
Reporter: Maybe so, but here’s something else I dug out! The Heath and Morton fortunes are based on a greaseless cold-cream formula that Carruthers invented!
Police chief: Our police chemists couldn’t break down one of the ingredients. We thought perhaps you could.
Mad doctor: Why, I compounded this myself! It’s a new shaving lotion I’m experimenting with! The ingredient your chemists couldn’t break down I discovered years ago in Tibet.
Reporter: How did you happen to put it in a shaving lotion?
Mad doctor: Oh, the lamas use it in some of their religious rites as a perfume!
Expert: I was still sceptical when I came to Heathville today to examine the body of this so-called “Devil Bat”. But after seeing it personally, and making exhaustive research, I have arrived at the conclusion that the creature is the lone survivor of a type of giant bat that existed in great numbers during the early part of the Neolithic Age! Perhaps I should explain for the benefit of some of our listeners that the Neolithic Age is that period of antiquity commonly called the “Stone Age”…
Mad doctor [listening to broadcast]: Imbecile! Bombastic ignoramus!
Mad doctor: Rub a few drops on your face!
Victim #4: Well, I’d rather wait until after I shave. Then my skin will be more tender and receptive to a lotion.
Mad doctor: Well, ah— Just a little, here. The texture of the skin there is always very delicate!
Victim #4: You never know what’s going to happen in this business!
Mad doctor: You can believe me, Henry: you don’t have to worry!
Victim #4: I’ve been going over the report of the company’s annual earnings. A net profit of over a million dollars! Not bad, eh? – when you remember what we built on: a mere ten thousand dollars for your formula! You shouldn’t have demanded all cash, Doc. You should have ridden along with us. Then you’d be rich, too! Ah, but then, you’ve had a lot of fun in your laboratory, with your experiments, dreaming up something new. You’re a dreamer, Doc. Too much money’s bad for dreamers!
(Just call him “Mr Tact”.)
Victim #4: Your nerves are frayed, Doc. Now, calm down – get a grip on yourself! You’ve been working too hard on your formula!
Mad doctor: Formula! That’s but child’s play for a great scientist! Your brain is too feeble to conceive what I accomplished in the world of science!
Victim #4: I think I’ve got a clue to all those murders! It may peter out, but if half what I suspect is true, it’s the most diabolical plot that a madman ever concocted!
Reporter: Tell me, Doc: how did you develop a monster bat like that?
Mad doctor: You wouldn’t understand the scientific theory!
Male mad scientist: You’ve been working! I knew it by the howling of the dogs!
Male mad scientist: I know our mistake now! It came to me one night in that cesspool of stupid minds.
Female mad scientist: Marcel! Marcel!
Male mad scientist: No more failures, Malita! The next one will have a perfect brain!
Banker: Why, it feels warm! Almost flesh and bone – like the real animal.
Mad scientist: It is! Eight hours ago it was a full-grown St Bernard! Ah, you think I’m mad…. The world would think so too, if they knew what I was going to do. Lavond, my friend, millions of years ago the creatures that roamed this world were gigantic. As they multiplied, the Earth could no longer produce enough food. Think of it, Lavond! Every living creature reduced to one sixth its size! One sixth its physical need! Food for six times all of us! Lavond! You know that all matter is composed of atoms?
Banker: Yes, yes, of course I know.
Mad scientist: And all atoms are made of electrons?
Banker: Yes, I know.
Mad scientist: Well, I’ve found a way to reduce all atoms in a body simultaneously, to any desired degree, and still maintain life, as in this little dog.
Banker: Well, then, the dog should be alive.
Mad scientist: It is! It is! Only, in reducing the brain, all records were wiped off! No memory left! No will of its own!
Female mad scientist: Marcel is dead!
Banker: Poor tortured brain! Well, perhaps it’s better this way…
Banker: This is like some horrible dream! I don’t want any part of this! Restore her to what she was!
Female mad scientist: No ! She will always remain small! Small! We can make the whole world small, as Marcel wanted!
Female mad scientist: It might be safer to take him downstairs and make him small…?
Banker: He already is small, in mind. In fact, Malita, if most men were reduced to the dimensions of their mentality, Marcel’s plan wouldn’t be necessary.
Police chief: I wouldn’t get too upset about that note, M. Matin. Probably not for you at all. Just some – religious fanatic. The city’s full of them around Christmas.
Want some more Immortal Dialogue?