(There is a knock at Phil’s office door,
he tells Dick to be quite
and motions for him to stay on
the couch in the anteroom.
Jeff and Joey continue hiding in the executive washroom)
(Phil opens the door
only to find Peter there)
It’s not too late at night?
I’d hoped you’d come.
We couldn’t leave negotiations
where they were.
Ah! I keep looking
for your father in you.
He’s not there.
I’ll miss him.
Has Dick or Eli been here to see you?
Does it matter?
If they haven’t yet, they will.
I want to reach a settlement.
I left you with too little earlier.
Yes. Nothing is too little.
I’m sorry you’re not fonder of me, lad.
Your father always said,
“be fond of stronger men.”
No wonder he loved everyone.
I’ve come to you to offer peace.
Piss on your peace.
Your father would have wept.
My father was a weeper.
Fight me, and you’ll lose.
I can’t lose, Peter. I have time.
Just look at you. Great heavy eyes.
But each year they get a little heavier.
The sand man says you are tired
and the sand slides in the hour glass.
I’m in no hurry, Peter.
I’ve got time.
Suppose I hurry things along.
Suppose I say that I will take over laFrance.
Then laFrance may surrender.
Or – – – it may not.
I don’t have to fight to win.
Take you want… this company, that one.
You won’t keep it long.
What kind of courage have you got?
The tidal kind… it comes and goes.
By God, I’d love to turn you loose on Eli.
Do I smell a Southern Comfort Manhattan?
You recognize it?
They were making them in the office
when they thought I had left for the day.
(Phil mixes a SoCo Manhattan for Peter)
Well, things look a little bleak
for Peter, don’t they?
You’ll say yes to Dick when he comes…
money, lawyers, anything he asks.
I’d be foolish not to.
And then you would withdraw it all
before the battle ever started.
Wouldn’t you, in my place?
Why fight Peter when his sons will do it for you?
You’ve got promise, lad. That’s first-class thinking.
Thank you, sir.
(Peter rattles the ice cubes and
empties his glass)
Good night? You’re going?
But we haven’t settled anything.
We open Christmas presents at noon.
You can’t be finished with me.
Oh, but I am. It’s been most satisfactory.
What’s so satisfactory?
Winning is. I did just win.
Surely you noticed.
Not a thing.
You haven’t won a damn thing.
Hmm. I found out the way your mind works and
the kind of man you are.
I know your plans and expectations.
You’ve burbled every bit of strategy you’ve got.
I know exactly what you will do and
exactly what you won’t.
And I’ve told you exactly nothing!
To these aged heavy eyes,
boy, that’s what winning looks like!
You… you turned my father into nothing.
You were always better.
You bullied him,
you beat him down
in every hostile takeover,
you twisted every alliance,
you played ‘mock the CEO’,
and then you made him love you for it.
I was there. His last words went to you.
He was a loving man,
and you’ve learned nothing of it.
I learned how much fathers live in sons.
A CEO like you has policy prepared for everything.
What’s the official line on sodomy?
Where do you stand on boys who do boys?
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