Mort:
[his conscience]
Why'd you put it on?
Mort:
I don't know.
Mort:
Maybe he wanted you to.
Mort:
Why would he want me to put his hat on?
Mort:
Maybe he wants you to...
Mort:
Maybe he wants me to what?
Mort:
To get confused.
Mort:
Oh, I'm already confused, Pilgrim. Plenty confused. So don't talk to me about confusion.
Mort:
Wait a minute. Back up just a sec. What about that?
Mort:
What about what?
Mort:
Well, "pilgrim." "Shooter's bay," and the half a dozen other details you've chosen to ignore.
Mort:
You know what? You're nuts. I don't need to listen to this shit from you.
Mort:
Are all these things coincidences?
Mort:
I'm wearing his bruises, aren't I? Aren't I?
Mort:
Are you?
Mort:
Well...
[Mort checks his arms and the bruises are gone]
Mort:
This doesn't make any sense.
Mort:
Would you like to hear something that does make sense? Call the police. Call Dave Newsome, tell me to come here this second and lock you up before you can do any more damage.
Mort:
I'm gonna get a knife and cut you out of me.
Mort:
Before you kill anyone else.
Mort:
I didn't kill anybody.
Mort:
You had a gun.
Mort:
Wasn't loaded.
Mort:
Really?
Mort:
No.
Mort:
You almost killed them. You wanted to
Riportata da il
05/03/2025 alle ore 07:15