Thief1981

Mrs. Knowles:
I see on your application here - by the way, you misspelled mail, it's M-A-L-E, the other's what we put in post boxes - I see you put under employer: 1959 to 1976, Joliet State Penitentiary.

Frank:
Yes.

Mrs. Knowles:
You worked for the state, I take it?

Frank:
After a fashion.

Mrs. Knowles:
And what did you do at the prison?

Frank:
Desks. I, uh, I spot-welded desks, and then I got promoted to shoes.

Mrs. Knowles:
You were in charge of the shop?

Frank:
Lady, I was a convict, I was doing time.

Mrs. Knowles:
You were what?

Jessie:
Frank, let's go.

Mrs. Knowles:
Umm, you have to understand, we have more applicants than children...

Frank:
Then why do you still have kids here? As a kid I would not be falling all over myself to stay in one of these places. We will relieve you of some of the burden.

Mrs. Knowles:
But the point is, we establish criteria for parenting, and an ex-convict compared to other desirables...

Frank:
Great, so we'll take a kid that's not so desirable. You got a black kid? We'll take a black kid. You got a chink kid?

Mrs. Knowles:
You don't seem to understand...

Frank:
Nobody likes older kids. You got an eight-year old black chink kid, we'll take him.

Jessie:
Frank...

Frank:
Wait.

Frank:
If it's a matter of, uh, y'know, here.

Mrs. Knowles:
What is that?

Frank:
What is that? That is D-flawless, three-point-two karats, emerald cut.

Mrs. Knowles:
This is not a marketplace.

Frank:
Right. Y'know, you're not smart enough to take this anymore than you are to, to, recognize good parents.

Mrs. Knowles:
Get out of my office.

Frank:
You did not ask about us. You didn't ask what kind of people we are. There is a child waiting, and you are denying us him, and him us. Who the hell are you?