Buck: Dad, I'm gay and there's not a damn thing you or anybody else can do about it!
Dad: oh yeah.. Well i'm gonna start hacking up people left and right and you know what..there's not a god damned thing you can do about that kiddo unless, of course, you shape up and start eatin' some pussy and quit being a fag!
cut to: an agent "Gilbert Goldberg" sits across from filmmaker "Quinlan Masterson" in an office. Gilbert throws down a script entitled 'Sliced and Diced' on the table.
Gilbert: This is Horseshit! This is God Damn idiotic Horseshit! Tell me where you come up with this crap. I'd like to know.. actually scratch that. I don't want to know. That has got to be the worst, if not THE worst, god damn script i have EVER read! Time and time again i've bankrolled your films cause i knew they had some kind of audience somewhere, but not this one.
Quin: What are you talking about? What's wrong with it?
Gilbert: What do you mean what's wrong with it? A guy going around hacking up women and children and god knows what else because his son likes to nibble on balls? Are you aware of how monumentally ridiculous that sounds?
Quin: It's fresh. Ridiculous maybe, but it's funny.. I mean come on Gil, People will think this guy is so outrageous!
Gilbert: (Pauses for a minute in silence) First of all, it's not fresh. Every time
i've put up the money for one your films it's always the same... Some psycho slasher fella running around loose dismembering folks for some loosely, and i mean loosely, based on reailty reason. Second of all it's a proven fact that people just don't like your movies.
Quin: Some people love my movies! I got the best director award at the Cincinatti horror film festival in 96' when i was only 18 for christ's sake!
Gilbert: That was when you were 18 Quin. Ten years ago.. besides we both know that was a fluke but it doesn't...
Quin: A fluke.. well then why did you..
Gilbert: Don't interupt me! The fact is critics don't like your movies and the die hard horror fans that you have created in your mind that exist "out there", even they only halfassedly do.. so my friend i ask you.. Where's the profit?
Quin: It's not about profit. It's about Art!
Gilbert: (laughs) Oh is it.. You really think that shit is Art? I'm serious, you
really think those movies you make are Art?
Quin: WEll yeah.. I mean there are many forms of expressing what can be considered as art.
Gilbert: I agree with you Quin, But I DON'T AGREE WITH YOU!!!
Quin: Obviously you don't understand.
Gilbert: Your right. Take your script home, toss it in the garbage, and write me something that moves me.. something that garners at least a little critical acclaim.
Quin: I don't need my films to have fucking critical acclaim.
Gilbert: Well i do so get on the ball!
Quin: This is my life your talking about. Your ruining my Fucking flow!
Gilbert: Good! cause your (makes quote gesture) "flow" is absolute shit!
Quin: Your gonna regret this. (gets up and walks out of room.)
Gilbert: Oh what.. you gonna go home, grab an ax out of your garage, come back and whop my head off like one of your sick fuckin' horror heros? (Quin walks out of room and door shuts behind him. Gilbert presses button desk to talk his secretary) Sara, sweetie will you do me a favor and make sure security sees that Mr. Masterson leaves the building and is not to be let back in under any circumstances.
Sara: Sure thing Mr. Goldberg.
Gilbert: Thanks... my little angel. (Spins his chair around looks out of the
window.) Lord why do you do this to me? No, Really why?
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