Don't Tell Me There's No Rule Book

(DOOR CLOSES)

The Judge :

So, Jim, I heard Your Guy is 

speaking with a phony accent.

Does he keep that up all the time?

The Advocate :

Actually, I'm pretty sure that's just the way he talks.

He's got the Russian name but a British passport.

The Judge :

Well, I doubt that that's genuine.

So, Jim, where are we? I see here...

The Advocate :

Yes, uh, Judge, you see, I just don't think 

that three weeks is going to do it, here.

We... We got a massive amount 

of evidence, as you know.

The Judge :

You wanna postpone?

The Advocate :

Six weeks.

I mean, there's just myself 

and my associate, basically.

The Judge :

Jim, is this serious?

The Advocate :

Sir...?

The Judge :

Is this serious?

The Advocate :

Yes. Yes, indeed, it is.

You can see in the filing...

The Judge :

Jim, this man is a Soviet spy.

The Advocate :

Allegedly. 

The Judge :

Come on, Counselor!

The Advocate :

Your Honour?

The Judge :

Of course, I salute you.

We all salute you for taking on 

a thankless task.

This man has to have due process.

But let's not kid each other.

(KNOCKING ON DOOR)

The Judge :

He'll receive a capable defense.

And, God Willing, he'll be convicted.

Come on, Counselor.

Let's not play games with this.

Not in my courtroom.

We have a date and 

we're going to trial.

(DOOR CLOSES)

The Advocate :

Taxi!

Taxi!

I see your light on! 

Son of a Bitch.

Can't wait to get back to Manhattan.

His light was on, right?

Son of a bitch.

MAN: 

Against their level of comfort.

The statute hasn't changed.

The Advocate :

Oh, excuse me, sir.

Pardon me. Sorry. Oh!

(CHATTERING CONTINUES INDISTINCTLY)

The C.I.A. :

Mr. Donovan.

The Advocate :

What?

What?

The Advocate :

(TUTTING)

CIA.

The C.I.A. :

Yeah. I just wanted to chat.

How's the case going?

The Advocate :

Case is going great. Couldn't be better.

Mmm-hmm.

The C.I.A. :

Has Your Guy talked?

The Advocate :

Excuse me.

The C.I.A. :

You met him. Has he talked? 

Has he said anything yet?

The Advocate :

We're not having this conversation.

The C.I.A. :

No, of course not.

The Advocate :

No, I mean, we really are not having it.

You're asking me to violate 

attorney-client privilege.

The C.I.A. :

Oh, come on, Counselor.

The Advocate :

You know, I wish people like you would quit saying 

"Oh, come on, Counselor."

I didn't like it the first time it happened today.

A Judge said it to me twice.

And the more I hear it, 

the more I don't like it.

The C.I.A. :

Okay, well, listen, I understand 

attorney-client privilege.

I understand all the 

legal gamesmanship.

And I understand 

that's how you make a living.

But I'm talking to you about something else.

The Security of Your Country.

And I'm sorry if the way I put it offends you.

But we need to know 

what Abel is telling you.

You understand me, Donovan?

We need to know.

Don't go "Boy Scout" on me.

We don't have A Rule Book, here.

The Advocate :

.....You're Agent Hoffman, yeah?

The C.I.A. :

Yeah.

The Advocate :

German extraction?

The C.I.A. :

Yeah, so?

The Advocate :

My Name's Donovan. Irish.

Both sides, Mother and Father.

I'm Irish, You're German.

But what makes us both Americans?

Just one thing.

One, one, one.

The Rule Book.

We call it The Constitution 

and we agree to The Rules, 

and that's 

What Makes Us Americans —

It's all that makes us Americans, so don't tell me 

“There's no rule book.”, and don't nod at me 

like that,  you Son of A Bitch.

Donovan gets up and starts to leave.

The C.I.A. :

Do we need to worry about you?

The Advocate :

Not if I'm left alone to do My Job.

Pacino-Salomé-Wilde

Robert, 

The Producer :

The Public are furious. 

Estelle's been attacked by members of The Public yesterday. 

Pacino :

Why?

Robert, The Producer :

A couple going out of the theatre —

Because it wasn't A Production. 

(Pacino) 

They said I should be 

ashamed of myself 

for putting it on. 

(Robert, The Producer) 

It wasn't clear to me whether they were really upset about The Play or about the fact that it was A Reading, I couldn't really tell. 

(Pacino) 

Reading. They don't understand that. 

(Robert, The Producer) 

No, they didn't get it. 

(man) 

Are you getting that feeling from the audience? 

(Barry) 

What, that they feel like they're being ripped off? Yeah. Yeah. 

(Pacino) 

Sometimes it just stops for me, you know, 

and I just don't know what I'm doing,

I don't know why I'm doing it —

I think, more importantly, 

I don't know why. 

Something is pushing me forward and... and... and I'm saying, 

"Well, they're gonna get The Movie." 

And you say,

"Well, what are they gonna get in The Movie that they're not getting in The Play?" 

“How is The Movie going to make The Play...”

Because it's not a movie about A Play. 

It's a movie about... 

Inspiration. 

It's A Movie about Inspiration. 

There's something about my struggle that's not CLEAR….

Something HAPPENED to Me when I saw This Play —

I felt as though I had 

found A Friend, 

someone I wanted to know, someone that was prophetic, because he was expressing 

His Own DESTINY 

in this play. 

It was as though he KNEW 

What Was Gonna Happen 

to Him. 

(bell rings)

Wikipedia

Newsroom 2x08 Wikipedia Clip

Hey, MacKenzie, I didn't realize that 

you were president of the Oxford Union.

You had to have been one of the first women presidents, right?

Cambridge. 

I'm sorry?

I was President of The Cambridge Union.

Oh. Uh-oh. Sorry. 

That was Wikipedia.

Wikipedia says I went to Oxford?

I think I'm remembering right. 

Will McAvoy :

Mac. You're pitching A Perfect Game. 

Let this one go.

You don't think I can let it go?

Will McAvoy :

I wasn't challenging you.

Oh, I'll let it go.

Either way, it's a big honour.

Yes, though not either way. 

Just one way.

Right.

Okay.

- Can I see you when you're done? - Sure.

- Gary signed your book. - Here's the thing.

You wanted me?

I just wanted to check in on the site.

We're doing fine. 

Everybody's doing fine.

Except Sloan who's flipping out 

because somebody bought her book

at the Sandy auction on Sunday 

and it wasn't really signed by her.

It's funny the things people try to control

when they feel like they're not in control.

I wasn't really listening.

I need you to change my Wikipedia page.

Sure.

I checked and for some reason, it says 

I was President of the Oxford Union.

Weren't you? 

No. I went to Cambridge. 

Right. I knew that.

Do you know who else went to Cambridge?

John Milton, Charles Darwin,

Jane Goodall, Alan Turing,

E.M. Forster, Stephen Hawking,

The King of Jordan, Prime Minister of India,

and three signatories to the Declaration of Independence.

Will McAvoy :

Mac, I wonder if you can switch me off.

You're screaming names of smart people in my ear.

Sorry. 

Will McAvoy :

They teach you that at Oxford?

So you'll get that fixed? 

Yeah.

 Mac. In here.

Did you change it?

I did.

Thank you. 

And They changed it back.

What do you mean they changed it back?

The original creator, the page administrator,

reviewed and denied the changes.

Why?

Because... Because... 

Why? Why did they do that?

Well, I e-mailed him and explained who I was, 

that you were my boss and that you have 

an expert understanding of where you did 

and didn't go to school,

and I got a very quick reply. 

Saying?

"It's Wikipedia's policy not to use information

that comes directly from the source of the article."

Say that again? 

"It's Wikipedia's...

Can't anyone edit a page? 

Yes. Except you.

So they won't allow firsthand information? 

No.

Seems sort of counterintuitive, doesn't it?

I know how you feel. 

I don't think you do.

Because no one's out there saying you were 

President of The Oxford Union

when you were 

President of The Cambridge Union,

The Greatest Debating Society 

in the history of The fucking Kingdom.

And that Kingdom's been around a long time. 

Don't I know it.

I don't even know if that was a sarcastic

geopolitical reference to colonialism or not.

It wasn't.

Good.

Good, 'cause, Neal, this is it.

We're gonna get this right. 

And I'll tell you why.

Because.

Mac, I get it.

And I'm gonna get it fixed.

Thank you. Ruling India was wrong.

It's a little late... 

I know.

A Tamer of Wild Animals

"Nothing is perfect," sighed the fox. 

But The Fox came back to his thought: 

"My Life is monotonous. 

I chase the chickens; the men chase me. 

All the chickens look the same, 

and all the men look the same. 

I get a little tired. 

But if you tame me, my life will brighten up. 

I will know the sound of footsteps that will be different from all others. The others make me go underground. Yours will call me out of my burrow like music. 

And then look! 

You see, down there, the fields of wheat? 

I don't eat bread. Wheat is useless to me. 

The fields of wheat don't remind me of anything. 

And that, that is sad! 

But you have hair the colour of gold. 

Then it will be marvelous once you have tamed me! 

The wheat, which is golden, will make me remember you. 

And I will love the sound of the wind in the wheat..." 

The Fox became quiet and looked for a long time at the little prince:

"Please… tame me!" he said. 

"I'm willing to,” answered the little prince, "but I don't have a lot of time. I have friends to find and a lot of things to learn." 

"You only really know the things you tame," said The Fox. "Men no longer have time to really know anything. They buy ready. made things at stores. But since there aren't any stores for friends, men no longer have friends. If you want a friend, tame me!" 

"What do I have to do?" asked the little prince. 

"You have to be very patient," The Fox replied. 

"First you sit at a little distance from me, like that, in the grass. 

I look at you out of the corner of my eye and you don't say anything. 

Language is the source of misunderstandings. But each day, you will be able to sit a little closer..." 

The little prince returned the next day. 

"It would be better if you come back at the same time," said the fox. "If you come, for example, at four in the afternoon, as soon as it is 3 o'clock I will begin to feel happy. 

As the time gets closer, the happier I will feel. 

At four o'clock I will right away be restless and worried: I will discover the price of happiness! 

But if you come at any old time, I will never know what time to prepare my heart.. it's necessary to have rituals."

"What is a 'ritual'? asked the little prince. 

"It's also something that has been too much forgotten," said the fox. 

"It is something that makes one day different from the other days, one hour from other hours. 

There is a ritual, for example, among the hunters. 

They dance every Thursday with the girls of the village. Then every Thursday is a marvelous day! 

I go walking right up to the grape vines. 

If the hunters danced at any old time, the days would all seem the same, and I would never have a holiday." 

AND SO THE LITTLE PRINCE tamed The Fox. 

And when the time for his departure came near:

"Ah!" said the fox. "I am going to cry." 

"It's your fault," said the little prince. "I didn't want to hurt you, but you wanted me to tame you..." 

"Oh, certainly," said the fox. 

"But you are going to cry!" said the little prince. 

"Oh, certainly," said the fox. 

"Well, then you aren't any better off!" 

"I'm better off because of the color of the wheat," said the fox. 

Then he added: "Go look again at the roses. You will understand that yours is unique in all the world. Come back to tell me goodbye, and I will give you a gift of a secret." 

THE LITTLE PRINCE went off to look at the roses again.

"You are not at all similar to my rose, you aren't anything special," he told them. 

"No one has tamed you and you have not tamed anyone. You are like my fox was. He was only a fox like a hundred thousand others. But I made friends with him, and he is now unique in all the world."  

And the roses were very embarrassed. "You are beautiful but you are empty," he told them. "No one would die for you. Oh, for sure, a casual passerby would think my rose resembled you. 

But she alone is more important than all of you, because it is her that I have watered. 

Because it is her that I have put under the glass globe. 

Because it is her that I have sheltered with the windscreen. 

Because it is her for whom I have killed the caterpillars (except for the two or three saved for butterflies). 

Because it is her that I have listened to complaining, or bragging, or even sometimes remaining silent. 

Because she is My Rose." 

AND HE CAME back to the fox: "Goodbye," he said. 

"Goodbye," said the fox. "Here is my secret. It is very simple: you only truly see with your heart. What is essential is invisible to the eyes 

"What is essential is invisible to the eyes," repeated the little prince, in order to remember. 

"It's the time that you have spent on behalf of your rose that makes your rose so important."

Reality Control

Look man, You know the score.

Why do I know the score?

Because You're Me.  

We're shot from 

the same gun-barrel.  

Only difference is, 

one did breast-stroke, 

one did crawl.

Well, The Legend tells of a droid -- 

a rogue simulant, who survives 

till the end of Eternity; to the 

end of Time-Itself.

After millions of years alone, 

He finally reaches the conclusion 

that there is •no• God, 

•no• afterlife, and the only 

Purpose of Existence is to lead 

a worthwhile Life.  

And so the 'droid constructs a 

time machine, and roams Eternity, 

visiting every single soul in History, 

and assessing each one.  

He erases all those who have wasted their lives and replaces them with those who never had 

a CHANCE of Life -- the unfertilised eggs, 

the sperms that never made it.  

THAT is The Inquisitor -- 

He PRUNES away The Wastrels, 

EXPUNGES The Wretched, 

and DELETES The Worthless!

RIMMER: 

We're in Big Trouble.

A city inside a dome on some moon somewhere.

2 Int. A bedroom on Earth.

A middle-aged man is sleeping in a darkened bedroom. 

A tall, black-caped figure with a black and white mask 

similar to a skull appears in the doorway, backlit 

and with smoke curling around his ankles. 

He booms the next line out with, curiously, 

a slight Scottish accent.

INQUISITOR: 

Thomas Allman!

ALLMAN, a stout man with gray hair, 

scrabbles about on the nightstand looking for his glasses.

INQUISITOR: 

Thomas Allman, you have been found 

unworthy of having existed. 

ALLMAN: 

Is that you, mother? 

INQUISITOR: 

Your Life and all Memory of You 

will be wiped from History. 

The Void you occupied in the Space-Time continuum 

will be allocated to a person who was 

never given The Gift of Life. 

May they spend their time more wisely.

The INQUISITOR shoots an orange-red beam of light at ALLMAN from a glove-like device he wears, which forms an aura around ALLMAN.

ALLMAN: 

But, please! Why me? 

There must be others who've 

lived worthless lives! 

INQUISITOR: 

All will be judged.

In ALLMAN's picture of himself on his nightstand, his image is replaced with that of a thinner, taller dark-haired man with a mustache. The dark-haired man then appears in the room in a flash of yellow-green light.

INQUISITOR: 

It is complete. 

All that remains is to delete 

your physical form.

The INQUISITOR shoots another red-orange beam 

at ALLMAN, who sort of dissolves. 

He then turns to speak to the new ALLMAN.

INQUISITOR: 

Sorry to disturb you, sir. 

Reality Control.

The INQUISITOR salutes, 

turns, and vanishes. 

The Batman :

There's a difference between 

Me and You :

We both starred in The Abyss....

But when it looked back into Us --

You blinked.

A door opens and the SECOND KRYTEN 

and SECOND LISTER walk through.  

They are very similar to the first KRYTEN and LISTER, 

but the SECOND KRYTEN's head is more rounded, 

and his voice is a little higher pitched.  

The SECOND LISTER is dressed similarly, 

but he is slightly smaller and has a worse haircut.  

SECOND LISTER: 

Who the smeg are these guys, Rimmer?

LISTER: 

Never mind, "Who the smeg are these guys?" 

Who the smeg are you?

SECOND LISTER: 

I, The Smeg am Lister!

KRYTEN: 

Of course!  He's the alternative You!  

One of the many David Listers 

who never got a chance to exist.

LISTER: 

So we're kind of... 

Sperms-in-law?

KRYTEN: 

Yes, sir.

SECOND KRYTEN: 

Delicately put, sir.

CAT: 

So whatta we do with 'em?

RIMMER: 

I say waste them.

LISTER and SECOND LISTER: (Together) 

Rimmer, for smeg's sake!

SECOND LISTER: 

He's such a dork, man!

LISTER: 

You're tellin' me?!

RIMMER: 

Look, they come here with some cock-and-bull story, 

they're chained together like Sidney Poiter 

and Tony Curtis -- I say 

open the door to oblivion 

and kick 'em through.

SECOND LISTER: 

Rimmer, no one's killin' no one, allright?

LISTER: 

Yeah, right!

RIMMER: 

Look, they're from some freaky alternative dimension, 

they've come here to hijack this ship and do... 

oooh, weird things to us.  

I think we should take the lift, 

put them on the security deck 

and stick them in The Brig.

CAT: 

I hate to say it, but for once 

TransAm-wheel-arch-nostrils 

is right. Come on, get moving!

RIMMER: 

What did you call me?

9 Int. Lift.

Cut to everyone packed together in a very old lift -- 

the kind with fold-up iron grating instead of a door.  

The LISTERs are having a conversation.

LISTER: 

Look man, You know the score.

SECOND LISTER: 

Why do I know the score?

LISTER: 

Because You're Me.  

We're shot from 

the same gun-barrel.  

Only difference is, 

one did breast-stroke, 

one did crawl.

SECOND LISTER: 

What are you tryin' to say?

LISTER: 

I'm saying--

LISTER is cut off when the INQUISITOR appears on the floor above them and begins shooting orange lasers at them through the floor (which is metal

grating.)

LISTER: 

That's him, guys!

General panic ensues as everyone tries to escape.  

LISTER and KRYTEN become separated from the group.  

The SECOND LISTER and SECOND KRYTEN are

blown up when the INQUISITOR's lasers 

touch off an explosion.

KRYTEN: 

C'mon, let's go.

LISTER: 

Let's go back!  

Let's go back!

They return to where they heard The Explosion.  

LISTER crouches over the bodies of the SECOND LISTER and SECOND KRYTEN.  

They have been literally

blown to pieces.

LISTER: 

Oh my god.  

Hang on a minute, 

I can use this.  C'mon, go!

LISTER has picked up something, 

but we couldn't see what.  

They continue running.

LISTER: 

If we got down to the transport decks, 

maybe we could nick one of the Starbugs, 

and get outta town.

They come upon A Door.

KRYTEN : 

Uh-oh, A Door. 

We'd better use an air vent.

LISTER: 

No need.

KRYTEN: 

Sir?

LISTER: 

Look, I'm gonna do something now, Kryten, 

that's totally, totally gross. 

I don't want you to look.  

Turn around.

KRYTEN: 

What?

LISTER: 

Trust me, you don't wanna know!

KRYTEN reluctantly turns around.  

LISTER pulls the object he picked up earlier 

out of his jacket:  it's a hand.  

He presses the severed hand to

the palm-print device, and the door opens.  

He puts the hand back in his

jacket and turns around.  

KRYTEN has a sick look 

of realisation on his face.

KRYTEN: 

Logically, sir, there is only one way 

you could have possibly have 

opened that door.  

I feel quite nauseous. Where is it?

LISTER: 

Where's what?

KRYTEN: 

Oh, sir!! You've got it 

in your jacket!!

LISTER: 

I got us out of the hold, didn't I?

KRYTEN: 

Sir, you are sick!  

You are a sick, sick person!  

How can you possibly even 

conceive of such an idea?

LISTER: 

Cheer up!  Or I'll beat you to death 

with the wet end!!

KRYTEN: 

Sir, if mechanoids could barf, 

I'd be onto my fifth bag by now!

  You're a sick person!  Sick!  Sick!

LISTER: (Overlapping) 

C'mon, Kryten, let's go!  C'mon!

The Borg Queen is My Navigator

TILLY: 

J'Vini said she was unsure of her path until she met Taglonen. 

And then you said that there was another path ahead. 

The Qowat Milat are very big 

on the "path" thing, right? 

The Angel Gabrielle, 

Michael’s Mother :

Well, paths end and change 

throughout everyone's life. 

When We Say "Choose to Live", 

it's an abbreviated form 

of a longer saying: 

"The Path you are on 

has come to An End — 

Choose to Live". 

If you find yourself at the wrong end 

of a Qowat Milat sword, 

it's pretty easy to see 

that particular path 

is over for you. 

You either move on 

to A New Path and Live, 

or You Stay and Die. 

TILLY :

What if the Death is more metaphorical? 

Gabrielle :

In everyday life, a path's end 

can be harder to recognize. 

You must be willing 

to look inside yourself 

with Absolute Candour. 

TILLY :

(smiles)

Another thing you're very big on.