The Hit List Page #3

You're so afraid to stand up for yourself

no matter what anyone does to you.

That makes you a self-perpetuating

victim of circumstance.

I'm not looking for any sympathy here.

I just wanted to have some...

Shoulder. I get it. Your problem,

Allan, is that you're weak.

Your wife sees it. That's why she figures

she can sleep with your best friend.

Your best friend, he sees it.

That's why he figures he can wrap legs with her

and not suffer any real consequences.

Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.

I think you're... You're crossing the line a little bit.

Okay.

Who the hell are you

to tell me who I am and who I'm not?

As far as I see it, I'm the closest thing

to a friend you've ever really had.

I mean, we've known each other

for what, two hours? Come on...

How long did you know Mike?

Look how that turned out.

I'm your friend, Allan,

because I got the balls to be brutally honest with you.

Complete and total openness,

no skipping paragraphs.

Everybody else in your life is full of sh*t.

You know, for somebody who claims

to know so little about people,

you certainly got everything figured out.

Hmm?

It's part of my job.

What's that? You're like a...

You a shrink? You shrink heads

for a living? What do you do?

I'm a professional killer, Allan.

Bullshit.

Jim O'Bannon,

that guy we saw on the TV earlier?

Hmm. What about him?

Yeah, right.

When I said I wasn't much of a people person,

I meant I always work alone.

But I always know my opponent.

That's how I can read people so well.

Seriously?

If it was a joke, would it be funny?

Seriously?

Okay, fine. Let's say hypothetically,

you killed O'Bannon. Why?

I was paid to perform a job, but then decided

to come here and do O'Bannon instead.

Personal reasons.

That's pretty sloppy for a so-called professional.

I mean, you come here, you kill O'Bannon,

and then you give a tell-all to a complete stranger.

But we're not complete strangers,

Allan. We're friends, remember?

Here we go.

Here, I'll prove it.

Write down five names.

What?

Pretend you just paid me a considerable

amount of money.

I work for you now.

You want five people dead, and you're gonna

write their names on that napkin.

Okay, come on. Come on.

Everybody has names, Allan.

Especially you.

Okay. I'll play along.

So what, like, what specific order do you want?

What do you want?

Let's say number five dies first

and then I work my way up.

Number one being the priority.

Five, okay, so I'll put, five. Okay,

how about... Okay, five.

Fred Gates. You know, the boss

that I was telling you about.

Okay. Thanks.

Okay, Fred Gates.

Number four. Brian Felzner.

The guy that got your promotion.

He stole my idea.

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