You must really love your son, Schillinger, to come in here and ask me for a favor. It must be chewing up your insides to have to stand here in my office begging me for your son's life. 'Cause this is what you're doing, right? Begging?
Yes.
Think of all the times I needed something from you and you just sit here with that stupid-ass grin on your face singing "doodah."
This is my son, goddamn it!
I thought you had two sons.
Yeah, I do.
Maybe you'll be luckier with the second.
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