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  • Michael's final conversation with Karen, the more so because for most of it, we think that Michael is doing what Karen thinks he is doing:
    Michael: Are you so fucking blind you don't even see what I am? I'm the easiest part of your whole goddamn problem and you're gonna kill me? Don't you know who I am? I'm a fixer. I'm a bagman. I do everything from shoplifting housewives to bent congressmen...and you're gonna kill me? [pause] What do you need, Karen? Lay it on me. You want a carry permit? You want a heads-up on an insider-trading subpoena? I sold out Arthur for eighty grand and a three-year contract and you're gonna kill me?
    Karen: What do you want?
    Michael: What do I want. I want more. I want out. [brandishes incriminating memo] And with this, I want everything.
    Karen: Is there a number?
    Michael: Ten is a number.
    Karen: Ten? Ten what? Ten million? Where do you think I'm gonna get 10 million dollars?
    Michael: You know what's great about this? Did you read it all the way to the end? You see who signed it? Let's go into that ballroom and ask Don Jeffries if he wants to pass the hat for a worthy cause.
    Karen: This would have to be a longer conversation, and would have to take place somewhere else.
    Michael: Where? My car?note  All right. I'm gonna make it easy. Let's make it five. Five and I'll forget about Arthur.
    Karen: Five is easier. Yeah, five is something that we could talk about.
    Michael: Good. And then the other five is to forget about the 468 people that you knocked off with your weed killer.
    Karen: Let me finish up this meeting. I'll talk to Don . . .
    Michael: Do I look like I'm negotiating?!
    Don: [entering] Karen?
    Karen: One second.
    Don: Everything okay?
    Karen: [to Michael] Yes.
    Michael: Ten million dollars. Bank of my choosing. Offshore. Immediately.
    Karen: Yes.
    Michael: Say it!
    Karen:: Ten million dollars, your account, the moment this meeting is through.
    Don: Karen! Everyone's waiting.
    Karen: I'm coming, Don. [to Michael] You have a deal.
    Karen: . . . What.

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