You're my hero, Carl.
Heroes ain't supposed to shake. I'm
shakin', man, look at me.
Breathe, Carl. Four, nice, deep ones.
Expanding his chest, exhaling. Ray adjusts Carl's tie for
him, his collar. He speaks quietly. Quickly.
the Bowen-Hamilton Textile Company.
We have rug samples.
We are one-dimensional, boring
peddlers of fine carpet, Carl.
the service elevator. Carl follows. Door closes.
BEGIN CREDITS END.
Wall Street Journal.
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