Bill: The woman lying dead in the morgue was the woman at the party. Ziegler: Yes. Bill: Well, Victor, maybe I'm missing something here. You call it fake, a charade... Do you mind telling me what kind of fucking charade ends up with somebody turning up dead!? Ziegler: Okay, Bill, let's cut the bullshit, alright? You've been way out of your depth for the last twenty-four hours. You want to know what kind of charade? I'll tell you exactly what kind. That whole play-acted "take me" sacrifice that you've been jerking off with had nothing to do with her real death. Nothing happened after you left that hadn't happened to her before. She got her brains fucked out. Period.

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A "Hi, I am here!"

B "Hello gorgeous!"

C "Papa, can you hear me?"

D "Hello, Dolly!"