American Psycho

COURTNEY: Patrick?

BATEMAN: Yes?

COURTNEY: Nothing.

COURTNEY: Listen...Patrick. Can we talk?

BATEMAN: You look marvelous. There's nothing to say. You're going to marry Luis. Next week, no Less.

COURTNEY: Isn't that special? Patrick?

BATEMAN: Yes, Courtney?

COURTNEY: What are you doing tonight?

BATEMAN: Dinner at the River Cafe. Au Bar afterwards, maybe.

COURTNEY: That's nice.

BATEMAN: You and...Luis?

COURTNEY: We were supposed to have dinner at Tad and Maura's, but-you know how Luis is...

BATEMAN: I never knew you smoked.

COURTNEY: You never noticed.

COURTNEY: Will you call me before Thanksgiving?

BATEMAN: Maybe.

BATEMAN: See? Happy? You dumb bitch? Are you happy, you dumb bitch?

COURTNEY: Oh God, just get it over with.

BATEMAN: Oh Christ, this really isn't worth it. And see, Courtney, it's there for what? Huh? Tell us. Why is it pulled down half an inch? So it can catch the force of the ejaculate!

COURTNEY: Well, it's not a turn-on for me. I have a promotion coming to me. I don't want to get AIDS.

BATEMAN: Oh Jesus. I'm going home.

COURTNEY: Patrick. Turn on the Light. He turns on the light.

BATEMAN: It's a plain end, see? So?

COURTNEY: Take it off.

BATEMAN: Why?

COURTNEY: Because you have to leave half an inch at the tip to catch the force of the ejaculate! BATEMAN I'm getting out of here. Where's your lithium?

BATEMAN: It's a plain end. I think.

COURTNEY: Turn the light on.

COURTNEY: No, you idiot. I said "Is it a receptacle tip?" Not, is Luis a despicable twit. Is it a receptacle tip? Get off me.

BATEMAN: Is it a what?

COURTNEY: Pull out.

BATEMAN: I'm ignoring you.

COURTNEY: Pull out, goddamnit!

BATEMAN: What do you want, Courtney?

COURTNEY: Luis is a despicable twit.

BATEMAN: Yes, Luis is a despicable twit. I hate him.

BATEMAN: Courtney, you're going to have the peanut butter soup with smoked duck and mashed squash. New York magazine called it a 'playful but mysterious little dish." You'll love it. And then...the red snapper with violets and pine nuts. I think that'll follow nicely.

COURTNEY: Mmmm...thanks, Patrick.

BATEMAN: J&B. Straight.

COURTNEY: Champagne on the rocks. Oh-could I have that with a twist? She starts to sink back in her chair and Bateman leans over and pulls her back up.

COURTNEY: Are we here?

BATEMAN: Yes.

COURTNEY: This is Dorsia?

BATEMAN: Yes, dear.

COURTNEY: A facial at Elizabeth Arden, which was really relaxing, then to the Pottery Bam where I bought this silver muffin dish.

BATEMAN: Is that Donald Trump's car?

COURTNEY: Oh God, Patrick. Shut up.

BATEMAN: You know, Courtney, you should take some more lithium. Or have a Diet Coke. Some caffeine might get you out of this slump.

COURTNEY: I just want to have a child. Just...two... perfect...children...

BATEMAN: Listen, what are you doing tonight?

COURTNEY: What? Oh, I'm...busy.

BATEMAN: Listen, you're dating Luis, he's in Arizona. You're fucking me, and we haven't made plans. What could you possibly be up to tonight?

COURTNEY: Stop it. I'm...

BATEMAN: On a lot of lithium?

COURTNEY: Waiting for Luis to call me. He said he'd call tonight. Oh don't be difficult, Patrick.

BATEMAN: You should come have dinner with me. COURTNEY But-when?

BATEMAN: Am I confused or were we talking about tonight?

COURTNEY: Ummm . . yeah. Luis is calling me tonight. I need to be home for that.

BATEMAN: Pumpkin?

COURTNEY: Yes?

BATEMAN: Pumpkin you're dating an asshole.

COURTNEY: Uh huh.

BATEMAN: Pumpkin you're dating the biggest dickweed in New York.

COURTNEY: I know. Stop it.

BATEMAN: Pumpkin, you're dating a tumbling, tumbling dickweed.

COURTNEY: Patrick don't call me pumpkin anymore, okay? I have to go.

BATEMAN: Courtney? Dinner?

COURTNEY: I can't.

BATEMAN: I'm thinking Dorsia.

COURTNEY: Dorsia's nice.

BATEMAN: Nice?

COURTNEY: You like it there, don't you?

BATEMAN: The question is do you like it, Courtney? And will you blow off a fucking phone call from your sad excuse for a boyfriend to eat there tonight.

COURTNEY: Okay. Yeah. What time?

BATEMAN: Eight?

COURTNEY: Pick me up?

BATEMAN: Sounds like I'll have to. Don't fall asleep, okay? Wear something fabulous. Dorsia, remember?

CHRISTIE: This is nicer than your other apartment.

BATEMAN: It's not that nice.

BATEMAN: So, you're looking great, how have you been?

CHRISTIE: Well, I actually might need a little surgery after last time.

BATEMAN: Really?

CHRISTIE: My friend told me I should maybe even get a lawyer.

BATEMAN: Oh, lawyers are so complicated-don't do that. Here.

BATEMAN: Nothing like last time, promise.

CHRISTIE: Alright.

CHRISTIE: I'm not so sure about this. I had to go to Emergency after last time...

BATEMAN: Oh this won't be anything like last time, I promise.

CHRISTIE: I don't think so.

CHRISTIE: You have a really nice place here...Paul. How much did you pay for it?

BATEMAN: Actually, that's none of your business, Christie, hut I can assure you it certainly wasn't cheap.

BATEMAN: Do you want to come to my apartment or not?

CHRISTIE: I'm not supposed to. But I can make an exception.

BATEMAN: Do you take American Express?

BATEMAN: I haven't seen you around here.

CHRISTIE: You just haven't been looking.

BATEMAN: Would you like to see my apartment?

EVELYN: Where are you going?

BATEMAN: I'm just leaving.

EVELYN: But where?

BATEMAN: I have to return some videotapes.

BATEMAN: If you really want to do something for me, you can stop making this scene right now.

EVELYN: Oh God, I can't believe this.

BATEMAN: I'm leaving now. I've assessed the situation and I'm going.

EVELYN: No, no, no.

BATEMAN: I know my behavior is...erratic sometimes.

EVELYN: You're really serious, aren't you?

BATEMAN: Yes, I am.

EVELYN: But what about the past? Our past?

BATEMAN: We never really shared one.

EVELYN: You're inhuman.

BATEMAN: I'm...in touch with humanity. Evelyn, I'm sorry. You're just not terribly important to me.

BATEMAN: We need to talk.

EVELYN: Talk about what, Patrick? What is there to talk about?

BATEMAN: It's over, Evelyn. It's all over

EVELYN: Touchy, touchy. I'm sorry I brought the wedding up. Let's just avoid the issue, alright? Now, are we having coffee?

BATEMAN: I'm fucking serious. It's fucking over. Us. This is no joke. I don't think we should see each other anymore.

EVELYN: But your friends are my friends. My friends are your friends. I don't think it would work. You have a little something on your upper lip.

BATEMAN: I know that your friends are my friends. I've thought about that. You can have them.

EVELYN: Why? What's wrong?

BATEMAN: My need to engage in homicidal behavior on a massive scale cannot be, um, corrected, but I have no other way to fulfill my needs.

EVELYN: I want a firm commitment.

BATEMAN: I think, Evelyn, that we've...lost touch.

EVELYN: Are you using minoxidil?

BATEMAN: No. I'm not. Why should I ?

EVELYN: Your hairline looks like it's receding.

BATEMAN: It's not.

BATEMAN: Why don t you just go for Price?

EVELYN: Oh God, Patrick. Why Price? Price?

BATEMAN: He's rich.

EVELYN: Everybody's rich.

BATEMAN: He's good-looking.

EVELYN: Everybody's good-looking, Patrick.

BATEMAN: He has a great body

EVELYN: Everybody has a great body now.

EVELYN: Pat, this is my cousin Vanden and her boyfriend Stash. He's an artist.

BATEMAN: Hi. Pat Bateman.

EVELYN: Marzipan. Pink tents. Hundreds, thousands of roses. Photographers. Annie Leibovitz. We'll get Annie Leibovitz. And we'll hire someone to videotape. Patrick, we should do it.

BATEMAN: Do...what.

EVELYN: Get married. Have a wedding.

BATEMAN: Evelyn?

EVELYN: Yes, darling?

BATEMAN: Is your Evian spiked?

EVELYN: We should do it.

BATEMAN: No-I can't take the time off work.

EVELYN: Your father practically owns the company. You can do anything you like, silly.

BATEMAN: I don't want to talk about it.

EVELYN: Well, you hate that job anyway. Why don't you just quit? You don't have to work.

BATEMAN: Because I...want...to...fit...in.

VAN PATTEN: Listen, what about dinner?

BATEMAN: Is that all you ever have to contribute, Van Patten? "What about fucking dinner?"

BATEMAN: Do you know what Ed Gein said about women?

VAN PATTEN: Ed Gein? Maitre d' at Canal Bar?

BATEMAN: No, serial killer, Wisconsin in the fifties. He was an interesting guy.

VAN PATTEN: Because he dated her.

BATEMAN: How did you guess?

VAN PATTEN: Girls dig Bateman. He's CQ. You're total CQ, Bateman.

BATEMAN: Thanks, guy, but...she's got a lousy personality.

VAN PATTEN: But Laurie Kennedy is a total hardbody. What do you think, Bateman?

BATEMAN: I know her. I knew her.

VAN PATTEN: Eggshell with Romalian type. What do you think?

BATEMAN: Nice.

BATEMAN: Picked them up from the printers yesterday

VAN PATTEN: Good coloring.

BATEMAN: That's bone. And the lettering is something called Silian Rail.

BATEMAN: You'll notice that my friends and I all look and behave in a remarkably similar fashion, but there are subtle differences between us. McDermott is the biggest asshole. Van Patten is the yes man. Price is the most wired. I'm the best looking. We all have light tans. Right now I'm in a bad mood because this is not a good table, and Van Patten keeps asking dumb, obvious questions about how to dress .

VAN PATTEN: What are the rules for a sweater vest?

MRS. WOLFE: Don't come back.

BATEMAN: I won't...don't worry.

MRS. WOLFE: I think you should go now.

BATEMAN: But I think...I want to know what happened here.

MRS. WOLFE: Don't make any trouble. Please. I suggest you go.

BATEMAN: Doesn't he live here?

MRS. WOLFE: No, he doesn't.

BATEMAN: Are you sure?

MRS. WOLFE: You saw the ad in the Times?

BATEMAN: No. Yes. I mean yes, I did. In the Times. But... doesn't Paul Owen still live here?

MRS. WOLFE: There was no ad in the Times.

MRS. WOLFE: Can I help you?

BATEMAN: I'm looking for...Paul Owen's...place.

MRS. WOLFE: Are you my two o'clock?

BATEMAN: No.

CARNES: Because I had dinner with Paul Owen twice in London...just ten days ago.

BATEMAN: No, you...didn't?

CARNES: Now, if you'll excuse me.

BATEMAN: Now, Carnes, listen to me. Listen very, very carefully. I killed Paul Owen and I liked it. I can't make myself any clearer

CARNES: But that's simply not possible. And I don't find this funny anymore.

BATEMAN: It never was supposed to he! Why isn't it possible?

CARNES: It's just not.

BATEMAN: Why not, you stupid bastard?

CARNES: Now, if you'll excuse me, I really must...

BATEMAN: Wait. Stop. You don't seem to understand. You're not really comprehending any of this. I killed him. I did it, Carnes. I'm Patrick Bateman. I chopped Owen's fucking head off. I tortured dozens of girls. The whole message I left on your machine was true.

CARNES: Excuse me. I really must he going.

BATEMAN: No! Listen, don't you know who I am? I'm not Davis, I'm Patrick Bateman! I talk to you on the phone all the time! Don't you recognize me? You're my lawyer.

BATEMAN: Carnes? Wait.

CARNES: Davis. I'm not one to bad-mouth anyone, your joke was amusing. But come on, man, you had one fatal flaw: Bateman's such a dork, such a boring, spineless lightweight, that I couldn't fully appreciate it. I wasn't fooled for a second. Now, if you'd said Price, or McDermott...Otherwise, it was amusing. Now, let's have lunch or dinner or something. Hilarious, Davis. A killer.

BATEMAN: What are you talking about? Bateman is what?

CARNES: Oh Christ. He can barely pick up an escort girl, let alone...what was it you said he did to her?

CARNES: By the way Davis, how is Cynthia? You're still seeing her, right?

BATEMAN: But wait, Harold, what do you mean?

CARNES: It was a pretty long message, wasn't it?

BATEMAN: What exactly do you mean?

CARNES: The message you left.

CARNES: Jesus, Davis. Yes. That was hilarious. That was you, wasn't it?

BATEMAN: Yes, naturally.

CARNES: Bateman killing Owen and the escort girls? Oh that s fabulous. That's rich...

BATEMAN: Excuse me, gentlemen. Right back. He approaches Carnes cautiously.

CARNES: Face it-the Japanese will own most of this country by the end of the '90s.

BATEMAN: What...is...it?

CARRUTHERS: Where are you going?

BATEMAN: I've gotta...I've gotta...return some videotapes.

CARRUTHERS: Patrick?

BATEMAN: What? CARRUTHERS I'll call you.

CARRUTHERS: Call me please, Patrick.

BATEMAN: Jesus lives, Luis.

CARRUTHERS: Patrick? Is that you?

BATEMAN: No, Luis. It's not me. You're mistaken.

CARRUTHERS: This is Gwendolyn Ichiban. This is my very good friend Patrick Bateman. Where are you going? We're going to Nell's. Gwendolyn's father's buying it. Where did you get your overnight bag?

BATEMAN: Commes des Garcon.

CARRUTHERS: Patrick, thanks so much for looking after Courtney. Dorsia, how impressive! How on earth did you get a reservation there?

BATEMAN: Lucky, I guess.

CARRUTHERS: That's a wonderful jacket. Let me guess, Valentino Couture?

BATEMAN: Uh huh.

CARRUTHERS: It looks so soft.

BATEMAN: Your compliment was sufficient Luis.

PRICE: And Bateman, what are YOU SO fucking zany about?

BATEMAN: I'm just a happy camper. Rockin' and a-rollin'. VAN PATTEN Rehab's done wonders for you, pal. Working for UNICEF now?

BATEMAN: Don't, I'll drink it.

PRICE: Listen to me, Patrick. I'm leaving.

BATEMAN: Where to? Are you going to go get a gram?

PRICE: I'm leaving! I...am...leaving!

BATEMAN: Don't tell me...merchant banking?

PRICE: No, you dumb son of a bitch. I'm serious. I'm disappearing.

BATEMAN: Where to? Morgan Stanley? Rehab? What?

PRICE: I'm leaving. I'm getting out.

BATEMAN: Leaving what?

PRICE: This.

PRICE: Yes, Caron's right. Gorbachev's not downstairs. He's at Tunnel.

BATEMAN: Ask me a question.

PRICE: Raised lettering, pale nimbus white...

BATEMAN: Impressive. Very nice. Let's see Paul Owen's card.

BATEMAN: I can't believe that Price prefers McDermott's card to mine.

PRICE: But wait. You ain't seen nothin' yet.

PRICE: What's that, a gram?

BATEMAN: New card. What do you think?

BATEMAN: Oh come on. Price. There are a lot more important problems than Sri Lanka to worry about. Sure our foreign policy is important, but there are more pressing problems at hand.

PRICE: Like what?

BATEMAN: Well, we have to end apartheid for one. And slow down the nuclear arms race, stop terrorism and world hunger. But we can't ignore our social needs. either We have to stop people from abusing the welfare system. We have to provide food and shelter for the homeless and oppose racial discrimination and promote civil rights while also promoting equal rights for women but change the abortion laws to protect the right to life yet still somehow maintain women's freedom of choice.

PRICE: SHUT UP!

BATEMAN: Calm down. Let's do it anyway

PRICE: I guess you're right... THAT IS, IF THE FAGGOT IN THE NEXT STALL THINKS IT'S OKAY!

BATEMAN: It's definitely weak but I have a feeling if we do enough of it we'll be okay.

PRICE: I want to get high off this; Bateman, not sprinkle it on my fucking All-Bran.

PRICE: Jeez. That's not a helluva lot, is it?

BATEMAN: Maybe it's just the light.

PRICE: Is he fucking selling it by the milligram? Oh my God...

BATEMAN: What?

PRICE: It's a fucking milligram of Sweet'n Low!

PRICE: There's this theory out now that if you can catch the AIDS virus through having sex with someone who is infected, then you can also catch anything-Alzheimer's, muscular dystrophy, hemophilia, leukemia, diabetes, dyslexia, for Christ's sake-you can get dyslexia from pussy-

BATEMAN: I'm not sure, guy, but I don't think dyslexia is a virus.

PRICE: Oh, who knows? They don't know that. Prove it.

PRICE: That's Paul Owen.

BATEMAN: That's not Paul Owen. Paul Owen's on the other side of the room. Over there.

BATEMAN: Van Patten looks puffy. Has he stopped working out?

PRICE: It looks that way, doesn't it?

MAITRE D': We are totally booked.

BATEMAN: Oh really? That's great.

MAITRE D': I said we are totally booked.

BATEMAN: Two at nine? Perfect.

MAITRE D': There are no tables available tonight. The waiting list is also totally booked.

BATEMAN: See you then.

MAITRE D': Dorsia, yes?

BATEMAN: Yes, can you take two tonight, oh, let's say at nine o'clock?

BATEMAN: Marcus Halberstam. For two at eight?

MAITRE D': Your friend has already been seated. Follow me, Mr. Halberstam.

MAITRE D': Dorsia.

BATEMAN: Umm...yes...I know it's a little late but is it possible to reserve a table for two at eight or eight-thirty perhaps?

BATEMAN: ...to the office this afternoon.

JEAN: Why?

BATEMAN: Just...say...no!

JEAN: What is it, Patrick? Are you alright?

BATEMAN: Stop sounding so Fucking sad! Jesus!

JEAN: Patrick Bateman's office.

BATEMAN: Jean? Hello? Jean?

JEAN: Patrick? Is that you?

BATEMAN: Hello? Jean, I need help!

JEAN: Where are you?

BATEMAN: Jean-I'm not-

JEAN: Craig McDermott called. He wants to meet you and David Van Patten and Tim Price at Harry's for drinks.

BATEMAN: Oh God, what did you say, you dumb bitch?

JEAN: Patrick? I can't hear you.

BATEMAN: What are I doing?

JEAN: Where are you? Patrick, what's wrong?

BATEMAN: I don't think I'm gonna make it, Jean.

JEAN: And don't forget you have a breakfast meeting with Frederick Bennet and Charles Rust at '21.

BATEMAN: Thanks. It slipped my mind completely.

BATEMAN: If you stay, I think something bad will happen. I think I might hurt you. You don't want to get hurt, do you?

JEAN: No. No, I guess not. I don't want to get bruised. You're right, I should go.

BATEMAN: Yes. I don t think I can...control myself.

JEAN: I know I should go. I know I have a tendency to get involved with unavailable men, and...I mean, do you want me to go?

BATEMAN: I'm looking for...I guess you could say I just want to have a meaningful relationship with someone special.

JEAN: Hmmmm.

BATEMAN: What...No! Put it in the carton.

JEAN: Sorry.

BATEMAN: Jean? What?

JEAN: Make someone happy-have you ever wanted to?

BATEMAN: Did you know that Ted Bundy's first dog, a collie, was named Lassie? Had you heard this?

JEAN: Who's Ted Bundy?

BATEMAN: Forget it.

JEAN: What's that?

BATEMAN: Oh. Uh, tape. Duct tape. I...need it for... taping something. Bateman goes back to the cupboard for the nail gun.

JEAN: Patrick, have you ever wanted to make someone happy?

BATEMAN: Do you have a boyfriend?

JEAN: No, not really.

BATEMAN: Interesting.

JEAN: Are you seeing anyone? I mean, seriously?

BATEMAN: Maybe. I don't know Not really. Bateman opens up a cupboard where there are a lot of very Bateman opens a cupboard where there are a lot of neatly ordered weapons - an ax, a rifle, a chain saw, duct tape, twine and a nail gun.

BATEMAN: Jean, do you feel...fulfilled? I mean, in your life?

JEAN: Well, I guess I do. For a long time I was too focused on my work, I think, but now I've really begun to think about changing myself, you know, developing, and...growing.

BATEMAN: Growing. I'm glad you said that.

BATEMAN: And don't tell me you enjoy working with children, okay?

JEAN: Well, I'd like to travel. And maybe go back to school, but I really don't know...I'm at a point in my life where there seems lo be a lot of possibilities, but I'm so... I don't know...unsure.

JEAN: Want a bite?

BATEMAN: I'm on a diet. But thank you.

JEAN: You don't need to lose any weight. You're kidding, right? You look great. Very fit.

BATEMAN: You can always he thinner. Look...better.

JEAN: Well, maybe we shouldn't go out to dinner. I don't want to ruin your willpower.

BATEMAN: No. It's all right. I'm not very good at controlling it anyway.

BATEMAN: Jean? Sorbet?

JEAN: Thanks, Patrick. I'd love some.

BATEMAN: Yes? You're dressed...okay.

JEAN: You didn't give them a name.

BATEMAN: They know me.

BATEMAN: Soooo...Dorsia is where Jean wants to go...

JEAN: Oh, I don't know. No, we'll go anywhere you want.

BATEMAN: Dorsia is...fine.

JEAN: Anywhere you want?

BATEMAN: Let's not think about what I want. How about anywhere you want.

JEAN: Oh Patrick, I can't make this decision.

BATEMAN: No, come on. Anywhere you want.

JEAN: Oh, I can't. I don't know.

BATEMAN: Come on. Where do you want to go? Anywhere you want. Just say it. I can get us in anywhere.

BATEMAN: That is...if you're not doing anything.

JEAN: Oh no. I have no plans.

BATEMAN: Well, isn't this a coincidence.

BATEMAN: Jean?

JEAN: Yes, Patrick?

BATEMAN: Would you like to accompany me to dinner?

JEAN: Yes, Patrick?

BATEMAN: Bring us an ashtray for Mr. KIMBALL, please. She whisks in with a crystal ashtray as they sit in silence.

JEAN: Patrick?

BATEMAN: Can you bring Mr...

BATEMAN: Tell him I'm at lunch.

JEAN: Patrick, I think he knows you're here. It's only ten-thirty.

BATEMAN: What is it?

JEAN: Patrick?

BATEMAN: Ye-es, Je-an?

JEAN: Patrick, a Mr. Donald KIMBALL is here to see you.

BATEMAN: Who?

JEAN: Detective Donald KIMBALL?

JEAN: You don't like this, I take it?

BATEMAN: Come on, you're prettier than that.

JEAN: Thanks, Patrick.

JEAN: Yes?

BATEMAN: Is that the Ransom file? Thanks. Don't wear that outfit again.

JEAN: Ummm...what? I didn't hear you.

BATEMAN: I said "Do not wear that outfit again." Wear a dress. A skirt or something.

JEAN: Oh, something. . romantic?

BATEMAN: No, silly. Forget it. I'll make them. Thanks.

JEAN: I'll do it.

BATEMAN: No. No. Be a doll and just get me a Perrier, okay?

JEAN: You look nice today.

BATEMAN: Okay, Jean. I need reservations for three at Camols at twelve-thirty, and if not there, try Crayons. All right?

JEAN: Yes, sir.

JEAN: Oh? And what should I say?

BATEMAN: Just...say...no.

JEAN: Just say no?

JEAN: Late?

BATEMAN: Aerobics class. Sorry. Any messages?

JEAN: Ricky Hendricks has to cancel today. He didn't say what he was canceling or why.

BATEMAN: I occasionally box with Ricky at the Harvard Club. Anyone else?

JEAN: And...Spencer wants to meet you for a drink at Fluties Pier 17.

BATEMAN: When?

JEAN: After six.

BATEMAN: Negative. Cancel it.

BATEMAN: Oh really? DAISY He said... He said you gave him bad vibes.

BATEMAN: That's...that's too bad.

DAISY: You think I'm dumb, don't you?

BATEMAN: What?

DAISY: You think I'm dumb. You think all models are dumb.

BATEMAN: No. I really don't.

DAISY: That's okay. I don't mind. There's something sweet about you.

BATEMAN: Welt...it depends, why?

DAISY: Well, most guys I know who work in mergers and acquisitions don't really like it.

DAISY: So, what do you do?

BATEMAN: What do you think I do?

DAISY: A model? An actor?

BATEMAN: No. Flattering, but no.

DAISY: Well...

BATEMAN: I m into, well, murders and executions mostly.

VICTORIA: Hubert's? Oh really? It moved uptown, right?

BATEMAN: Yeah, well, oh boy, listen, I've got to go. Thank you, uh... Victoria?

VICTORIA: Maybe we could have lunch one day next week? You know, I'm downtown near Wall Street quite often.

BATEMAN: Oh, I don't know, Victoria. I'm at work all the time.

VICTORIA: Well, what about, oh, you know, maybe a Saturday?

BATEMAN: Next Saturday?

VICTORIA: Yeah.

BATEMAN: Oh, can't, I'm afraid. Matine of Les Miserables. Listen, I've really got to go. I'll-Oh...Christ...I'll call you.

VICTORIA: Okay. Do.

BATEMAN: Well, I mean, um, it s really...Bosco. You know, like... like a Dove Bar. It's a Dove Bar...Hershey's Syrup?

VICTORIA: Oh yeah. Oh I get it. Fun with chocolate.

BATEMAN: Listen, if you could talk to them I would really appreciate it. I'm really late. I have a lunch appointment at Hubert's in fifteen minutes.

BATEMAN: Well.

VICTORIA: Isn't it ridiculous? Coming all the way up here, but you know. They really are the best.

BATEMAN: Then why can't they get these stains out? I mean can you talk to these people or something? I'm not getting anywhere.

VICTORIA: Hi, Patrick. I thought that was you.

BATEMAN: Hello

BATEMAN: Did you know that Whitney Houston's debut LP called simply Whitney Houston had four number-one singles on it? Did you know that, Christie? Whitney's voice leaps across so many boundaries and is so versatile-though she's mainly a jazz singer-that it's hard to take in the album on a first listening.

ELIZABETH: You actually listen to Whitney Houston? You actually have a Whitney Houston CD? More than one?

BATEMAN: Are you telling me you've never gotten it on with a girl?

ELIZABETH: No! I'm not a lesbian. Why do you think I'd be into that?

BATEMAN: Well, you went to Sarah Lawrence for one thing.

ELIZABETH: Those are Sarah Lawrence guys, Patrick. You're making me feel weird.

BATEMAN: Listen, I would just like to see...the two of you...get it on. What's wrong with that? It's totally disease-free.

ELIZABETH: Patrick, you re a lunatic.

BATEMAN: Come on. Don't you find Christie attractive?

ELIZABETH: Let's not get lewd. I'm in no mood to have a lewd conversation.

BATEMAN: Come on. I think it would be a turn-on.

ELIZABETH: Does he do this all the time?

ELIZABETH: Did you know that guy who disappeared? Didn't he work at Pierce & Pierce, too? Was he a friend of yours?

BATEMAN: No.

ELIZABETH: Do you have any coke? Or Halcyon? I'd take a Halcyon.

ELIZABETH: This tastes weird. Harley? It's me. I need your services. Translate that anyway you'd like. I'm at-

BATEMAN: You're at Paul Owen s.

ELIZABETH: Who?

BATEMAN: Paul Owen.

ELIZABETH: I want the number, idiot. Anyway, I'm at Paul Norman's and I'll try you later and if I don't see you at Canal Bar tomorrow night I'm going to sic my hairdresser on you.

BATEMAN: Elizabeth, it's three in the morning.

ELIZABETH: He's a goddamn drug dealer! These are his peak hours.

BATEMAN: Don't tell him you're here.

ELIZABETH: Why would I?

BATEMAN: She's my...cousin.

ELIZABETH: Uh huh?

BATEMAN: She's from...France.

BATEMAN: What do you mean, she was a hot number.

ELIZABETH: If you had an American Express card she'd give you a blowjob. Listen, this girl worked in a tanning salon, need I say more?...What do you do?

BATEMAN: Oh, right. Of course...We had wanted Paul Owen to come. But he said he had plans...I guess I had dinner with Victoria...the following night.

KIMBALL: Personally I think the guy went a little nutso. Split town for a while. Maybe he did go to London. Sightseeing. Drinking. Whatever. Anyway, I'm pretty sure he'll turn up sooner or later. I mean, to think that one of his friends killed him, for no reason whatsoever would be too ridiculous. Isn't that right, Patrick?

BATEMAN: He does? You're sure?

KIMBALL: I checked it out. It's clean.

BATEMAN: Oh. KIMBALL Now where were you?

BATEMAN: Where was Marcus?

KIMBALL: He wasn't with Paul Owen.

BATEMAN: So who was he with?

KIMBALL: He was at Atlantis with Craig McDermott, Frederick Dibble, Harry Newman, George Butner and - you.

KIMBALL: So, the night he disappeared? Any new thoughts on what you did?

BATEMAN: I'm not really sure. I had a shower...and some sorbet?

KIMBALL: I think maybe you've got your dates mixed up.

BATEMAN: But how? Where do you place Paul that night?

KIMBALL: According to his date book, and this was verified by his secretary, he had dinner with...Marcus Halberstam.

BATEMAN: And?

KIMBALL: I've questioned him.

BATEMAN: Marcus?

KIMBALL: Yes. And he denies it. Though at first he couldn't be sure.

BATEMAN: But Marcus denied it?

KIMBALL: Yes.

BATEMAN: Well, does Marcus have an alibi?

KIMBALL: Yes.

KIMBALL: No hash browns?

BATEMAN: Not in the mood, I guess.

KIMBALL: But...everyone orders the hash browns here. I mean- it's-have you been here before?

BATEMAN: Yes, of course. The hash browns are delicious. I'm just...not... ordering them.

KIMBALL: Suit yourself, I guess.

BATEMAN: Never. I mean...I don't really like... singers.

KIMBALL: Not a big music fan, eh?

BATEMAN: No, I like music. Just-they're-Huey's too... black sounding. For me.

KIMBALL: Well, to each his own. So-lunch, Thursday? I'll call your secretary about reservations.

BATEMAN: I'll be there.

KIMBALL: Well, thank you, Mr. Bateman.

BATEMAN: Patrick, please. I hope I've been informative. Long day-a bit scattered.

KIMBALL: Listen, I'm a little spent for now but how about lunch in a week or so when I've sorted out all this information?

BATEMAN: Great, yes, I'd like that.

KIMBALL: And if you could try and pin down where you were the night of Owen's disappearance, it would make my job a lot easier.

BATEMAN: Absolutely. I'm with you on that one.

BATEMAN: I had a date with a girl named Veronica.

KIMBALL: Wait. That's not what I've got.

BATEMAN: What?

KIMBALL: That's not the information I've received.

BATEMAN: Well...I...Wait...What information have you received?

KIMBALL: Let's see... That you were with-

BATEMAN: Well, I could he wrong.

KIMBALL: Well...When was the last time you were with Paul Owen?

BATEMAN: We had...gone to a new musical called...Oh Africa, Brave Africa. It was...a laugh riot...and that's about it. I think we had dinner at Orso's. No, Petaluma. No, Orso's. The...last time I physically saw him was...at an automated teller. I can't remember which...just one that was near, um, Nell's.

KIMBALL: Do you remember where you were on the night of Paul's disappearance? Which was on the twentieth of December?

BATEMAN: God...I guess...I was probably returning videotapes.

KIMBALL: I actually came to see Timothy Price, but he's taken a leave of absence.

BATEMAN: Yeah, gone into rehab. Shame. Is he a suspect?

KIMBALL: Not really.

KIMBALL: I mean they want to get caught.

BATEMAN: Dan, great to see you again. Like I said, you need anything at all, I'm your man. I don't envy your job. I mean Owen was a...complex man.

BATEMAN: How's the investigation going? Taken anyone in for "formal questioning?"

KIMBALL: 0h no. Informal conversations, mostly. What's that, Stoli?

BATEMAN: Yeah. No Finlandia, as usual. Fucking dump.

KIMBALL: Too true. You know, Bateman-people tend to reveal so much more about themselves when they're in a relaxed setting, don't you think?

BATEMAN: Detective Kendall...uh Campbell? KIMBALL Kimball. Call me Don.

BATEMAN: Don.

KIMBALL: So...you hang out here a lot?

BATEMAN: Uh, yes...I mean...whenever necessary. You know.

KIMBALL: Listen, if anything occurs to you, any information at all...

BATEMAN: Absolutely, I'm 100% with you.

KIMBALL: Great, and thanks for your, uh, time, Mr. Bateman.

BATEMAN: You'll have to excuse me. I have a lunch meeting with Cliff Huxtable at Four Seasons in twenty minutes.

KIMBALL: Isn't the Four Seasons a little far uptown? I mean aren't you going to be late?

BATEMAN: Uh, no. There's one...down here.

KIMBALL: Oh really? I didn't know that.

BATEMAN: Have you consulted a psychic?

KIMBALL: No.

BATEMAN: Had his apartment been burglarized?

KIMBALL: No, it actually hadn't. Toiletries were missing. A suit was gone. So was some luggage. That's it.

BATEMAN: I mean no one's dealing with the homicide squad yet or anything, right?

KIMBALL: No, not yet. As I said, we're not sure. But... basically no one has seen or heard anything.

BATEMAN: That's so typical, isn't it?

KIMBALL: It's just strange. One day someone's walking around, going to work, alive, and then...

BATEMAN: Nothing.

KIMBALL: People just...disappear.

BATEMAN: The earth just opens up and swallows people.

KIMBALL: Eerie. Really eerie.

KIMBALL: Anything else you can tell me about Owen?

BATEMAN: We were both seven in 1969.

KIMBALL: So was I.

BATEMAN: Do you have any witnesses or fingerprints?

KIMBALL: Well, there's a message on his answering machine saying he went to London.

BATEMAN: Well, maybe he did, huh?

KIMBALL: His girlfriend doesn't think so.

BATEMAN: But...has anyone seen him in London?

KIMBALL: Actually, yes.

BATEMAN: Hmmm.

KIMBALL: Well, I've had a hard time getting an actual verification. A Stephen Hughes says he saw him at a restaurant there, but I checked it out and what happened is, he mistook a Hubert Ainsworth for Paul, so...

BATEMAN: Oh.

KIMBALL: Was he involved at all , do you think, in occultism or Satan worship?

BATEMAN: What?

KIMBALL: I know it sounds like a lame question, but in New Jersey I know this sounds like a lame question, but last month-I don't know if you've heard about this, but a young stockbroker was recently arrested and charged with murdering a young Chicano girl and performing voodoo rituals with various body parts-

BATEMAN: Yikes! No. Paul wasn't into that. He followed a balanced diet and-

KIMBALL: Yeah, I know, and was into that whole Yale thing.

BATEMAN: Don't you know this?

KIMBALL: I just wanted to know if you know. BATEMAN Before Yale? If I remember correctly, Saint Paul's... Listen, I just...I just want to help.

KIMBALL: So...there's nothing you can tell me about Paul Owen?

BATEMAN: He led what I suppose was an orderly life. He... ate a balanced diet.

KIMBALL: What kind of man was he? Besides... the information you've just given.

BATEMAN: I hope I'm not being cross-examined here.

KIMBALL: Do you feel that way?

BATEMAN: No. Not really.

KIMBALL: Where did Paul hang out?

BATEMAN: Hang...out?

KIMBALL: Yeah. You know...hang out.

BATEMAN: Let me think. The Newport. Harry's. Fluties. Endochine. Nell's. Comell Club. The New York Yacht Club. The regular places.

KIMBALL: He had a yacht?

BATEMAN: No, he just hung out there.

KIMBALL: And where did he go to school?

BATEMAN: Yeah...Yale thing.

KIMBALL: What do you mean...Yale thing?

KIMBALL: How well did you know him?

BATEMAN: I'm...at a loss. He was part of that whole...Yale thing, you know.

KIMBALL: Yale thing?

KIMBALL: What can you tell me about Paul Owen?

BATEMAN: Well...

KIMBALL: Would you rather I not smoke?

BATEMAN: No, I guess it's okay.

KIMBALL: You sure?

BATEMAN: No problem.

BATEMAN: Bad habit.

KIMBALL: I know. I'm sorry.

KIMBALL: Pardon me, but are you okay?

BATEMAN: Who do you ask?

KIMBALL: You seem...nervous.

KIMBALL: Just some preliminary questions that I need for my own files, okay?

BATEMAN: Shoot.

KIMBALL: How old are you?

BATEMAN: Twenty-six. I'll be twenty-seven in October.

KIMBALL: Where did you go to school?

BATEMAN: Harvard. The Harvard Business School.

KIMBALL: Your address?

BATEMAN: Fifty-five West Eighty-First Street. The American Gardens Building.

KIMBALL: Nice. Very nice.

BATEMAN: Thanks.

BATEMAN: Well, what's the topic of discussion?

KIMBALL: The disappearance of Paul Owen.

BATEMAN: Oh right. Well, I haven't heard anything about the disappearance or anything... Not on "Page Six" at least.

KIMBALL: I think his family wants this kept quiet.

BATEMAN: Understandable. Lime?

KIMBALL: No, really. I'm okay.

BATEMAN: You sure? I can always get you a lime.

KIMBALL: KIMBALL.

BATEMAN: Mr. Kimball a bottle of San Pelle-

KIMBALL: Oh no, I'm okay.

BATEMAN: It's no problem

BATEMAN: So, what's the topic of discussion?

KIMBALL: I've been hired by Meredith Powell to investigate the disappearance of Paul Owen.

BATEMAN: You're not with the FBI or anything, are you?

KIMBALL: Nothing like that. I'm just a private investigator.

BATEMAN: Ah, I see...Yes. Paul's disappearance...Yes.

KIMBALL: So it's nothing that official. I just have some basic questions. About Paul Owen. About yourself-

BATEMAN: Coffee?

KIMBALL: No. I'm okay.

BATEMAN: Perrier? San Pellegrino?

KIMBALL: No, I'm okay.

KIMBALL: Hi. I'm Donald KIMBALL

BATEMAN: Hi. Pat Bateman. Nice to meet you.

KIMBALL: I'm sorry to barge in on you like this. but I was supposed to talk to Luis Carruthers and he wasn't in and...well, you're here, so...I know how busy you guys can get.

BATEMAN: Listen, John, I've got to go. T Boone Pickens just walked in... Just joking... No don't tip the owner of the salon. Okay, John, right, got it. Sorry about that.

KIMBALL: No, I'm sorry. I should've made an appointment. Was that anything important?

BATEMAN: Oh that? Just mulling over business problems. Examining opportunities...Exchanging rumors... Spreading gossip.

BATEMAN: Why don't you get another one? Why don't , you get another job?

HOMELESS MAN: I'm not...

BATEMAN: You're not what? Qualified for anything else?

HOMELESS MAN: I'm hungry

BATEMAN: I know that, I know that. Jeez, you're like a broken record. I'm trying to help you.

HOMELESS MAN: I'm hungry.

BATEMAN: Listen, do you think it's fair to take money from people who do have jobs? From people who do work?

HOMELESS MAN: What am I gonna do?

BATEMAN: Listen, what's your name?

HOMELESS MAN: Al.

BATEMAN: Speak up. Come on.

HOMELESS MAN: Al.

BATEMAN: Get a goddamn job, Al. You've got a negative attitude. That's what's stopping you. You've got to get your act together. I'll help you.

HOMELESS MAN: You re so kind, mister. You're kind. You're a kind man. I can tell.

BATEMAN: Shhhh...it's okay.

HOMELESS MAN: Please...I don know what to do. I'm so cold.

BATEMAN: Do ,you know how bad you smell? The stench, my God.

HOMELESS MAN: I can't...I can't find a shelter

BATEMAN: You reek. You reek of...shit. Do you know that? Goddammit, Al-look at me and stop crying like some kind of faggot. Al...I'm sorry.

BATEMAN: Gee, uh, that's too bad.

HOMELESS MAN: I'm so hungry.

HOMELESS MAN: I'm so hungry.

BATEMAN: It's cold out, too, isn't it?

HOMELESS MAN: I'm so hungry.

BATEMAN: Why don't you get a job? If you're so hungry, why don't you get a job?

HOMELESS MAN: I lost my job...

BATEMAN: Why? Were you drinking? Is that why you lost it? Insider trading? Just joking. No, really-were you drinking on the job?

OWEN: Hey, Halberstam?

BATEMAN: Yes, Owen?

OWEN: Why are there copies of the Style section all over the place? Do you have a dog? A chow or something?

BATEMAN: No, Owen.

OWEN: Is that a raincoat?

BATEMAN: Yes, it is.

BATEMAN: You like Huey Lewis and the News?

OWEN: They're okay. BATEMAN Their early work was a little too New Wave for my taste. But then Sports came out in 1983, I think they really came into their own, commercially and artistically.

BATEMAN: Paul, give me your Amex card. Good boy. Bateman slaps the card down, looks at the check.

BATEMAN: Two-hundred-and-fifty. Very reasonable. Let's leave a big tip, shall we? My place hr a nightcap?

OWEN: No, man. I'm gonna bail.

BATEMAN: Come on, you dumb son of a bitch. I've got a preview of the Barneys catalogue and a bottle of Absolut waiting for us.

OWEN: And Cecelia, how is she? Where is she tonight?

BATEMAN: Cecelia is, well...you know

OWEN: Evelyn. Great ass. Goes out with that loser Patrick Bateman. What a dork.

BATEMAN: Another Martini, Paul?

BATEMAN: So, wasn't Rothschild originally handling the Fisher account? How did you get it?

OWEN: I could tell you that, Halberstam, but then I'd have to kill you.

BATEMAN: Listen, the mud soup and the charcoal arugula are outrageous here.

OWEN: Yeah, well, you're late.

BATEMAN: Hey, I'm a child of divorce. Give me a break Hmmm, I see they've omitted the pork loin with lime jello.

OWEN: We should've gone to Dorsia. I could've gotten us a table.

BATEMAN: Nobody goes there anymore.

OWEN: How's the Ransom account going, Marcus?

BATEMAN: It's...it's...all right.

OWEN: Really? That's interesting. Not great?

BATEMAN: Oh well, you know.

OWEN: And how's Cecilia? She's a great girl.

BATEMAN: Oh yes. I'm very lucky.

OWEN: Hello, Halberstam. Nice tie. How the hell are you?

BATEMAN: I've been great. And you?

PRICE: I just don't see how someone, anyone, can appear that way and yet be involved in such total shit. How can you be so fucking, I don't know, cool about it?

VAN PATTEN: Some guys are just born cool, I guess.

PRICE: How can he lie like that? How can he pull that shit?

VAN PATTEN: What shit? Now where do we have reservations at? I mean I'm not really hungry, but I would like to have reservations somewhere.

PRICE: I don't believe it. He looks so...normal. He seems so... out of it. So...undangerous.

VAN PATTEN: You think so?

PRICE: You'll look like you consciously worked for the look.

VAN PATTEN: Good point. Excuse me, gentlemen.