Fuck

Brad will understand. Brad will fix my Black Russian the way I like it. Brad will listen. Brad respects me

Simon doesn't know, he doesn't know

No clue whatsoever

They could sleep, drunk, they can sleep

The Chinese. They can't sleep

What can I do? I mean

If I want to help the kids

We have to survive as a business

If I want to help their grandkids

We go under

Under. Get it? Got it. Good. No more contracts

But that won't help. Dupont will step in

What do I do? I work for.. the government, basically

We're so close, I need to make a decision

Death Star

Sheep!

Almost there, come on

Mr. Sandman, come to me

And the cold war is over

That Johnny Werd. We can't have someone like that having access to the building

A dreamer, romantic

Terrorist

We're so close now too

Had to fire the Asians

Have to hold out. We have something

And even though we can't test it, we have the computers to prove it

I hope you'll forgive me, but I'm doing my job

How much error, and how big? How to adjust it? Increase the blast radius, render precision irrelevant

Deadline's too soon

Simon couldn't understand

Doesn't have that kind of responsibility to family, sense of order

If it wasn't for the military-industrial complex, terrorism would be rampant

Don't they feel it? It's actually necessary to hold those people back, those insane men with their psychopathic dreams and their strange gods, to keep them from turning the world into a desert

And taking it out on me, when I'm the one keeping the roof over their head

Work somewhere else

Thank god he doesn't know

It's a goddamned monster we're making

He shouldn't know that. The knowledge would crush him

His imagination would shortcircuit leaving him lackadaisical

What was it

Now there's Vietnamese and

Indian blood on my hands

What kind of sick mind thinks that way

Did someone write that on a memo

Or did

...

The sheep are dying of poison in the field. They are too weak to jump. I can't sleep

I'm going in to work

...