The Stand, Part IV: The Stand

[Barry Dorgan, his clipboard-wielding deputy Burlson, and a pack of armed guards stop the Boulder trio on the road.]

Barry Dorgan:
By virtue of the power vested in me, smartass, you're under arrest.

Ralph Brentner:
In whose name?

Barry Dorgan:
You know who I speak for.

Ralph Brentner:
Then why don't you say it?

[Dead silence.]

Ralph Brentner:
Well, I'll say it for ya. Calls himself Randall Flagg, but who he really is, is an apostate of Hell. Now, you got that in your little clipboard there, Mr. Burlson?

Paul Burlson:
I wonder if you men might give me your Social Security numbers?

[Larry, Ralph, and Glen look at each other and burst out laughing.]

. . .

[Larry holds up his hands when the thugs start waving their guns.]

Larry Underwood:
Relax! You don't need those. That's why we came here. We got a message for your little tin god.

Barry Dorgan:
Tin god? Tin god. Man, that's funny. I spent 22 years on the Santa Monica P.D., and I know what happens when guys like you end up runnin' the show. We haven't got a single addict in Vegas. Can your people say the same?

Glen Bateman:
Mr. Dorgan, even a man of your apparently limited intelligence should be able to see that your experiences with a few battered babies and drug abusers doesn't justify your embrace of a monster!

[Dorgan smacks Glen across the face, knocking him down.]

Larry Underwood:
Oh, that's great. Very good! You get the Rodney King Humanitarian Award for the day, pal.

[One of the thugs jams a rifle butt into Larry's stomach.]

Glen Bateman:
It's almost over for them now, Larry. Can you feel it?