"Nobody's clean; everyone's got a little dirt on them. You just gotta know how to use it to make them squirm."
We have a host of employees. I can't know every one of them by name. I do, however, know that you are not one of them. These "encoded transmissions" you've been sending back to your little club... It's been educational. You forgot who owns the networks
, who created the cryptography
. You are trespassing. You are in violation of contracts signed in blood. You are breaking binding agreements made in Venice. The Council
tends to frown upon such things... As do I. And I am both less forgiving than the Council, and much better armed
. But... I'm also a reasonable man. It doesn't have to become ugly. Shall I continue?
I don't need you - I'll send you back to the farm, worse off than you were, because you'll have seen the Sierra Madre, and had to let it all
go. I could have gotten any leggy dame out of Hollywood to get out here and play Sinclair's heartstrings. You just happened to be the one I caught, and it was really your own fault, a little too much into the chems and meds, and... Aw, shhh, don't cry. Look, I'm not trying to hurt you.
Just one last little job, a little less dirty, a little less messy. He trusts you, Vera. And so do I.
After this, I promise you, all those other Holotapes, they'll go away.
Exactly why am I gonna help you? The Penguin:
Well... let's start. [he's handed a Christmas stocking with Max's name on it
] Oh, what have we here? Let's see... [he pulls out a thermos and opens it
] A batch of toxic waste from your "clean" textile plant! [he pours out some glowing green goo, and it burns a hole in the table in front of him
] There's a whole lagoon of this crud in the back! Max Shreck: That could've come from anywhere
. The Penguin:
What about the documents that prove you own half the fire traps in Gotham City? Max Shreck:
If there were such documents — that's not an admission
— I would have seen to it they were shredded. The Penguin:
Ah, a good idea. [he reaches into the stocking and pulls out a stack of papers that were visibly shredded and taped back together
] A lot of tape and a little patience make all the difference! By the way... how's Fred Atkins, your old partner, huh? Max Shreck:
Fred? Fred's actually... I believe he's on an extended vacation. He's... he's good. The Penguin:
] Good? [he reaches into the stocking and pulls out a severed hand
] "Hiya, Max! Remember me? I'm Fred's hand!" You wanna greet any other
body parts? Remember, Max: you flush it, I flaunt it.
You need to stop this. Enigma:
Stop what? Cleaning up the streets? Ensuring the GCPD
actually does its job? Removing corruption from the system? Was it one of those in particular you took issue with, or All of Them
You're using the data you've stolen to blackmail people. Enigma:
So? It gets the job done. And it's certainly kinder than the beatings you
're so fond of doling out. Think on that.
"Well, just what sort of severance package is management prepared to offer me? Considering the information I have about our Editorial Director buying pussy with company money - which, I think, would interest the I.R.S., since it technically constitutes fraud; and I'm sure that some of our advertisers and rival publications might like to know about it as well. Not to mention Craig's wife!"
The very first time, fifteen years ago, they had entered this very room
as David spent himself in one of the mouths
of some ruined, cadaverous Remade
girl. The suited men
had shown him their camera. They had told him they would send their pictures to the newspapers and the journals and the university. They had offered him a choice. They paid well
"Unless you want the rest of this freaky shit to hit the news, I suggest you take good care of me and my people." Frank Osbaldistone:
"Was he, then, not known at Osbaldistone Hall? Judge Inglewood:
"To none but to his daughter, the old knight, and Rashleigh, who had got at that secret as he did at every one else, and held it like a twisted cord about poor Die's neck. I have seen her one hundred times she would have spit at him, if it had not been fear for her father, whose life would not have been worth five minutes' purchase if he had been discovered to the Government."
"I have here information about the nineteen year old boy you maintain in the town of Shakti. And the apartment you have arranged for him... and the gifts that you have given him... and the dates of your last three overnight visits. If you attempt to fire Lieutenant Burakov... now, or at any time... I will send all this to your wife."