布萊德·彼特之即刻毀滅

CIA Superior: Where is the, uh, the treasury guy? Pfarrer? CIA Officer: Right now? CIA Superior: Right now. CIA Officer: Um, he is in a detention room at Washington Dulles. CIA Superior: Why? CIA Officer: He was trying to board a flight to Venezuela. We had his name on a hot list, the CB people pulled him in, uh. Don't know why he was going to Venezuela. CIA Superior: You don't know? CIA Officer: No, sir. CIA Superior: We have no extradition with Venezuela. CIA Officer: Oh. So what should we do with him? CIA Superior: For fuck's sake, put him on the next flight to Venezuela! CIA Officer: Yes, sir. Okay. CIA Superior: Okay. So, the gym manager is dead. CIA Officer: Yes, sir. CIA Superior: The body is? CIA Officer: Tha-that's gone, sir. CIA Superior: Okay. CIA Officer: Um, but there was a, um, snag. CIA Superior: What? CIA Officer: Well, um. This analyst, Cox, was attacking the gym guy. It was in broad daylight, on the street. Our man, uh, did not know what to do. He felt he had to step in. CIA Superior: Yes? CIA Officer: He, um, he shot the analyst. He shot Cox. CIA Superior: Good. Great! Is he dead? CIA Officer: No, sir. He's in a coma. CIA Officer: They don't think he's gonna make it. They don't-they don't think, they're pretty sure he has no brain function. CIA Superior: Okay. Okay. If he wakes up we'll worry about it then. Jesus, what a clusterfuck.