Having found sufficient evidence the accused removed, or caused to be removed, lighting from his apartment building's common stairwell. This action resulted in a female client, aged 62, sustaining fatal injuries as a result of a fall. It is now my duty to pronounce sentence. You are to apprehend the condemned as instructed and having transported him to the place designated, to amputate his right leg below the knee.
BBardale
I got it written down from earlier, Judge. I like the foot. I mean it's like the son of a bitch, he kicked that old lady down the stairs, practically.
JJudge
The prisoner shall be conscious prior to the amputation. You shall make him aware of the court's sentence.
BBardale
I'll rub it in good.
JJudge
The hood may seem superfluous to you, Mr. Bardale, but I pronounce formal sentence to honor what we do and to set it apart from frying bacon or passing gas.
BBardale
Oh, I respect that, Judge. Only, the two of us here, it seems a little like law court, you know?
JJudge
Mine is not a court of law, Mr. Bardale. It is a court of justice. We cannot address every case. Our scope is not broad like the common law courts. It is narrower. Deeper. More pure. Our judgment final.
BBardale
I'd better get going. You're doing the right thing like this. Feels good. I'm real grateful, Judge.
When Jesus of Nazareth expelled demons from a herd of enchanted hogs, story has it that the demons told him their name was 'Legion.' How would you like to work for me?
Every man finds his own path to justice. You needn't commit yourself now. The offer's open. A month, a year... Many benefits. I know you're sometimes scared for your family, your wife. There's a child now too, yes?
I can show you an absolute justice, an unconstrained justice. You'd have freedom to act without fear. Bardale and his kindred... they fear me, they obey me. Your family would be safe from such threats.
The police are about to release me. You and your group of associates have never been as close to me as I've allowed this time. I wanted you to hear my offer, feel its truth, see my strength.
Oh, yes. My congratulations in advance. Well, it's time to go. And remember, the offer's open. And if I'm hard to reach, well, don't make the conventional assumptions.
The man I had Bletcher pick up has filed a half a dozen law suits. City's attorney's ordered the police to stay away from him. [Offers his sandwich to Catherine.] Want this?
Wherein where previous findings indicate the other body parts were all sundered while the victims where alive, but I believe this tongue was removed after death. Also the instrument wasn't as sharp or as skillfully used as in previous excisions.
Well, it tells us that he's less concerned about being discovered but no less dangerous... possibly more so. There's nothing here to indicate that this is going to stop.
I've seen it. The moment before. Their faces. They're terrified because they don't understand... unlike you, Frank. They don't understand what it is to give yourself over to chaos. But you understand. You've seen it too. I can tell.
Well, thank you, sirrah. I'm glad you see that. Do you know precisely what happens at the moment of detonation? Shock waves moving faster than the speed of sound, pressure of over 500 pounds per square inch and this is all unleashed by me, Frank. It moves so fast that a vacuum is formed behind it, sucking back all the air that's been forced out by the blast. So, you see, Frank, a glass splinter will literally turn itself around, go back and penetrate anything that's in its path. I just don't know anything that has the power to stop that. My art brings out the truth. People are either vic-TORS or vic-TIMS. My explosion strips every hypocrisy, every pretension sheltered in the human heart and exposes the naked soul.
I feel your work is about waiting, anticipating the moment, the terror created. Playing so long on the mind, the fantasy becomes dull. The only moment worth a damn... the only arousal, is the moment of fire. Feel the heat upon your face. The impact upon your chest. The screams. The sirens. It is the moment of creation.
What I do is not work, Frank. It's art. My palette is fire, glass and blood. It's a fleeting art. It lasts only a fraction of a second, but the effect is profound, permanent... and if you're lucky, you happen to look in the right direction at the right time, you might get to see my creation.
It's more. His thrills wear out quickly. First, he alerts the authorities there's a bomb. After a day he needs more. So he contacts us? Taunts us to the point of near capture? What will he do to increase his excitement?
The bomber has expert knowledge in explosive devices. He knew exactly what and how much to use to create the effect he wants. There were two explosions today... neither one of which matched the lethal intensity of The Queen's Arms bombing.
But not so destructive a person couldn't survive inside of it. Especially if he knew when and how the force would dissipate. Raymond Dees is a maintenance worker in that building. He has the knowledge and the opportunity to place those devices where it would best suit him. He watched the first bombing from a distance. He believed that watching the chaos which he created would be the thrill, but he needed more... to smell it, to touch it, to participate in the aftermath, but that wasn't enough either.
'I love thee, oh Lord, my strength. The Lord is my rock and my fortress and my deliverer, my God, my rock of refuge... my shield, the horn of my salvation, my strong horn...
GGalen
If any one of you tries to leave, you will die. If you just sit down and sit still, I will tell you about the fiction and the fallacy as brought to you by the salesmen of salvation.
Maybe faith is like the picture album left in the closet. We don't go back and visit it every day. We need to know it's there, need to know it's safe... so we can pass it along when the time is right.
No, you've tried to kill it, but you can't. I've... seen your ritual. You try to kill your faith with the tools of your own belief because of your pain, because you think God's forsaken you. You think that you can get rid of your pain by slaughtering the faith that's inside you.
Yeah. I was just thinking on the plane about this man Calloway. I felt how human he was... so inundated by pain, fragmented by grief. It led him to surrender his humanity.
I'm going to tell Jordan that bad things happen. And even though the bird died and it upset her, we have to balance sadness... with a sense of hope... and faith.
