Mondo cannibale

Jeremy Taylor:
Are you Mr Martin?

Mr. Martin:
That's me.

Jeremy Taylor:
May we sit with you?

Mr. Martin:
It's a public place.

Jeremy Taylor:
I'm told that you know the Malavi region very well; better than you know the palm of your own hand.

Mr. Martin:
No. Leave the palms of my hands out of it. It'd be impossible to know that region in depth.

Ana:
Who would know it, then?

Mr. Martin:
Only the Gaevis know it well.

Ana:
That's just who we're looking for.

Mr. Martin:
The Gaevis? Well, in that case, you people better look for somebody else around here.

Jeremy Taylor:
But I was told that you trade with them...

Mr. Martin:
So what about it? Even the Americans deal with the Russians without people making a big thing out of it. And, anyway, I always use intermediaries.

Jeremy Taylor:
I must go into that region. And I need a guide, supplies and a couple of hundred men to help me out.

Mr. Martin:
If you're really loaded... if you're loaded with a lot of cash, you'll find two or three desperate men ready to go with you and run any risks.

Jeremy Taylor:
Unfortunately, I don't have the money.

Ana:
His daughter was kidnapped by the Gaevis.

Mr. Martin:
When was that?

Ana:
Many years ago.

Mr. Martin:
You'd better forget about it. Anyway [looking at Taylor's amputated arm] you should know all about them.

Mr. Martin:
How dare you talk to me like that. You're just a filthy opportunist, a parasite earning a living trading with people who devour women and children. You disgust me. Let's get out of here.