Steve Rubell:
[New Year's Eve. Disco Dottie has just died on the dance floor from a cocaine overdose and Shane is extremely upset]
Hey, hey, hey! Princess Grace is here and she's thirsty.
Shane O'Shea:
What?
Steve Rubell:
This way. You're on. Come on.
Shane O'Shea:
No...
Steve Rubell:
Shaney. Shaney, it's been a mean night, okay? And I'll cry about it tomorrow; I will. But tonight, the show must go on.
Shane O'Shea:
I-I-I can't talk to anybody! We did it to her!
Steve Rubell:
Hey! Come on!
[pulls Shane off the dance floor and towards the VIP basement]

Steve Rubell:
Hey, you can't blame yourself 'cause she couldn't handle her drugs. Come on, let's go. Come on. Come on.
[He gives Shane a pill]

Steve Rubell:
It'll calm you down. Come on. Take it.
Shane O'Shea:
This isn't right.
Steve Rubell:
Princess Grace is here, okay? Princess Grace!
Shane O'Shea:
We lost a friend tonight!
Steve Rubell:
No, no, no, I lost a friend tonight, okay? No offense, but you were just another pretty face to her.
Shane O'Shea:
She was my friend.
Steve Rubell:
She was completely nearsighted. She couldn't tell one of you from the next. Now get it together and get downstairs.
[Shane shoves Steve into the brick wall behind him]

Steve Rubell:
[angry]
Hey! Don't forget how replaceable you are, Little Lord Fauntleroy.
Shane O'Shea:
Try tellin' them that, Stevie. Remember, I'm one of New York's finest. I'm Shane 54.
Steve Rubell:
[scoffs]
Oh, like there wasn't a Gabriel 54 or a Rhett 54.
Shane O'Shea:
Bullshit.
Steve Rubell:
Oh, no. Don't tell me that's the first time you ever read an Interview Magazine. Oh, no!
[he starts laughing at Shane]

Shane O'Shea:
Fuck you! You troglodyte.
[walks away]

Steve Rubell:
[yelling]
Hey! Where ya goin'? Huh? The door's that way!
[turns to one of his men]

Steve Rubell:
He's out!

Film

Studio 54 (1998)

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