JaniceJesus H. Fuckin' Popsicle! I still don't have my billing reports, but you've got time to sit there and Google your ass off? Well, I know one thing: you've got your review coming up next week, and I can't wait to start checking me off some big *fucking* *boxes*!
[clicks her stapler for emphasis. Wesley cringes at every click]
JaniceAttitude: *poor*. Performance: *poor*. Management skills: *poor*. Works well with others? Ha! That's a fucking joke.
[looks at Wesley's computer]
JaniceWhat is this bullshit; who's this prick? Some loser gets his head blown off in the Metropolitan...
[throws the stapler against the wall of his cubicle, smashing it]
WesleyI understand. Junior High must've been kind of tough, but it doesn't give you the right to treat your workers like horseshit, Janice. I know we laugh at you, Janice. We all know you keep a stash of jelly donuts in the top drawer of your desk.
[crouches down]
WesleyBut I want you to know, if you weren't such a bitch, we'd feel sorry for you. I do feel sorry for you. But as it stands, the way you behave - I feel I can speak for the entire office when I tell you... go fuck yourself.
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[last lines]
Wesley[voice-over]Six weeks ago, I was ordinary and pathetic. Just like you. Who am I now? Account manager? Assassin? Or just another tool that was mind-fucked into killing his father? I'm all of these, and I am none of these. Who am I now?
[Wesley is shown to have apparently returned to his old job. He Googles his name, which returns no results]
WesleyThis is not me fulfilling my destiny. This is not me following in my father's footsteps. This is definitely not me saving the world.
[Sloan is suddenly killed by a headshot. The bullet's trajectory is shown in reverse, showing that it first passed through Barry's energy drink as he walks with Cathy, the hole in a donut Janice is eating, and several car windows before hitting him. The shooter is revealed to be Wesley, who fired the shot from a rifle in his father's house - miles away from Sloan's position]
WesleyThis is me taking control... from Sloan, from the Fraternity, from Janice, from billing reports, from ergonomic keyboards, from cheating girlfriends and sack-a'-shit best friends. This is me taking back control of my life!
Wesley[to audience]What the fuck have you done lately?
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[first lines]
Wesley[voice-over]It's my anorexic boss' birthday. This means there's a certain amount of inter-office pressure to stand around the conference table, eating crappy food and pretending to worship her. Acting for five minutes like Janice doesn't make all our lives miserable is the hardest work I'll do all day. My job title is account manager. I used to be called an account service representative, but a consultant told us we have to manage our clients, and to not service them. I have a girlfriend who I neither manage or service. That's my best friend Barry fucking her on an Ikea kitchen table I picked up for a really good price. I'm finding it hard to care about anything these days. In fact, the only thing I do care about is the fact that I can't care about anything. Seriously, it worries me. My name is Wesley Gibson. My dad walked out on my mom when I was seven days old. Sometimes I wonder if he ever looked into my baby blue eyes and asked himself "did I just father the most insignificant asshole of the twenty-first century"?
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SloanInsanity is wasting your life as a nothing when you have the blood of a killer flowing in your veins. Insanity is being shit on, beat down, coasting through life in a miserable existence when you have a caged lion locked inside and a key to release it.
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Wesley[sarcastically before shooting a victim]I'm sorry!
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[Fox waits while Wesley returns to his old apartment and knocks on the door; it is opened by Barry]
BarryWesley! Hey, where have you been? I have *really* missed you, man.
[Wesley slams the door against Barry's face, knocking him to the ground and bloodening his nose. He proceeds to the bathroom despite Cathy's protests]
Cathy[sarcastic and angry]Oh, god - look at the "big man"! You fucking asshole! What? What, you don't show up for weeks, now you're just gonna stop by and use the bathroom?
[Wesley shuts the bathroom door and retrieves a pistol from within the toilet]
CathyYou think you're a real big shot now, huh? No - you know what? You are nothing. No, you are less than nothing! You're not even half the man that Barry is! Barry? He pleases me in ways that you've never even heard of!
[Wesley leaves the bathroom; both he and Cathy are surprised to see Fox entering the apartment]
CathyWho the hell is she, Wesley? Your new whore? Is that what it takes now - you're paying for it?
[Fox passionately kisses him as Cathy watches in shock. Smiling, Wesley returns the kiss, and they leave the apartment holding hands]
Wesley[after killing first target]What did he do to deserve to die? You don't know. I didn't know if he was bad. I didn't know if he was evil. I didn't know anything about him. We get orders from a loom; fate. And we're supposed to take enough faith in what we're doing is right. Killing someone we know nothing about. I don't know if I can do that.
FoxAbout twenty years ago, there was this girl. Her dad was a federal judge, so she probably had it in her mind that she would follow in his footsteps. So she's home one Christmas, and her dad's on this big racketeering case. The defendant wanted to get a softer judge who they could buy off. So they hired this guy, Max Petridge, to get him to pay her father a visit. And the way he pays people a visit is to break in, and tie up their loved ones, and force them to watch while he burns his targets alive. And then he takes a wire hanger, twists it around, and brands his initials into each one of them so they will never ever forget. After I was recruited into the Fraternity, I found out that Max Petridge's name had come up, weeks before the federal judge was killed, and that a Fraternity member had failed to pull the trigger. We don't know how far the ripples of our decisions go. We kill one, and maybe save a thousand. That's the code of the Fraternity. That's what we believe in, and that's why we do it.
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Barry[after Wesley rants at Janice]Yeah, that was great, bro! Who's the man?
[Wesley smashes his keyboard against Barry's face. Bloodstained keys fly past spelling "FUCK YO", the final "U" being one of his molars]
Wesley[voice-over]You know when you have a dream and you're half-awake, but still in the fringe of your brain, and when you open your eyes you're so damn glad it was a dream?
Wesley[voice-over]Want to hear something sad? I use an ergonomic keyboard to keep my repetitive stress injury in check. Just the fact that I repeat something enough that it causes me stress is fucking sad.
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Wesley[voice-over]You know there are people, beautiful people, you just wish they could see you in a different setting, a different place. Instead of where you are, what you've become. But most of all, you wish you weren't such a pussy, for wishing for things that'll never change.
SloanIt a choice, Wesley, that each of us must face: to remain ordinary, pathetic, beat-down, coasting through a miserable existence, like sheep herded by fate - or you can take control of your own destiny and join us, releasing the caged wolf you have inside. Our purpose is to maintain stability in an unstable world - kill one, save a thousand. Within the fabric of this world, every life hangs by a thread. We are that thread - a fraternity of assassins with the weapons of fate. This is the decision that lies before you now: the sheep, or the wolf. The choice is yours.
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WesleyYou're not an assassin of fate, Sloan. You're just a thug who can bend bullets.
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SloanOtherwise, shoot *this* motherfucker and let us take our Fraternity of assassins to heights reserved only for the gods of men! You choose.
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Wesley[while being chased by Cross]Please, please, please drive faster!
The ExterminatorThis is the Recovery Room. This bath stimulates white blood cells and speeds up the process. If you have bruises, cuts, breaks - heal in hours, not days.
[the Butcher hits Wesley with the handle of a knife]
The ButcherThat was a rhetorical question, puto. You interrupt me again, I use the business end. Here's what you need to know, puto. Knives are easy to hide. They don't jam, and they never run out of bullets. They come in handy when you want to do some close contact work.
SloanWe can redistribute power were we see fit. The wolves rule. Not a sheep. Now if any of you feel the need to follow the code of The Fraternity to the letter. I invite you to take your gun, put it in your mouth, and pull the trigger. That is what Wesley demands. Otherwise, shoot this motherfucker. and let us take our fraternity to the heights reserved only for the gods of men. You choose.
FoxYour father died yesterday on the rooftop of the Metropolitan Building. Sorry.
Wesley[laughing in disbelief]Look, the liquor aisle is just over there, so if you want to go...
Fox[interrupting]Your father was one of the greatest assassins who ever lived. The man who killed him is behind you.
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Wesley[voice-over, after Barry calls him the man]I'm the man? Yeah right, Barry. I'm the man. In fact, I'm so much the man that I have a standing prescription for medication to control my anxiety attacks. God, I wish I had something else to relieve my stress.
Wesley[to Fox]So, bending bullets. Can you do that? You do that... hello?
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Wesley[while being chased by Cross]He's fucking persistent, you know?
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Janice[after snapping her stapler right next to Wesley's ear]Oh my fucking god! I hope that's not my billing report sitting on your desk. Holy shit on an altar, it is!
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SloanWelcome... to the Fraternity. This gun you're holding belonged to your father; he could conduct a symphony orchestra with it.
Sloan[walking in]It's not a question of how. It's a question of what. If no one told you that bullets flew straight, and I gave you a gun and told you to hit the target, what would you do? Let your instincts guide you.
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Title CardA thousand years ago, a clan of weavers formed a secret society of assassins. They silently carried out executions to restore order to a world on the brink of chaos. They called themselves The Fraternity. Six weeks ago...
[cut to employees singing Happy Birthday to the boss]
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SloanFor the first time if your life, Wesley, you're in control.
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SloanYou're like an apostle. Your task is not to interpret, but to deliver.