[Two men are boozing it up, cruising in their convertible down a remote Arizona highway.]
PPoke
Ya know what time it is?
Lloyd Henreid
What time is it?
PPoke
Time to make a cash withdrawal!
Lloyd Henreid
I heard that!
PPoke
And if anybody — I mean anybody — says anything, or does anything to stop us…
[Lloyd talks into the barrel of Poke's gun.]
Lloyd Henreid
We gonna Pokerize 'em!
PPoke
Dead right! Damn straight!
[Randall Flagg visits Lloyd in his prison cell.]
Lloyd Henreid
Can you let me outta here, mister? I'll do anything you want.
You poor guy. You look like ka-ka! [giggles] Tell me something, Lloyd—
Lloyd Henreid
How do you know my name?
Lucky guess. How'd you stay alive so long?
Lloyd Henreid
I saw it coming down, and I saved up some food, that's how.
[Flagg points to Lloyd's cot, and the mattress pulls itself up, revealing a partially-eaten rat.]
Brer Rat, how'd he taste?
Lloyd Henreid
[snivelling] Poke should be here, not me! Everything was Poke's idea!
And you got stuck with nothin' to eat but Rat Tartar.
. . .
Oh! I never even introduced myself, did I? Pleased to meet you, Lloyd. Hope you guess my name.
Lloyd Henreid
Huh?
Oh, uh… nothing. Just a little classical reference.
⇒ "Pleased to meet you / Hope you guess my name" are two lines from the chorus of The Rolling Stones' song "Sympathy for the Devil".
[In his cell in Las Vegas, Glen muses on a cockroach skittering around the prison floor.]
You're quite a piece of work, Mr. Cockroach. We could take a lesson from you, especially in light of recent events. I have an idea that… I'll be gone, come this time tomorrow. But you'll still be trucking, won't you? Running your little roach errands.
[Suddenly a boot stomps on the roach. Pan up to reveal a grinning Flagg.]
That's a wrap on the roach.
. . .
Actually, uh… I've decided to let you go.
Really? Marvelous. Of course, I couldn't go without my friends.
Oh, of course not! No, you'll all go together. Tomorrow morning. Tonight, if you prefer. And, uh… once again, all you have to do is ask. Only… for a favor of this magnitude… I really think you ought to do it on your knees.
[Bateman bursts out in tremendous laughter.]
Stop it. Stop laughing at me!
Sorry! It's just that… it's just that we made such… such a business of you, and it turns out you're nothing more than another cockroach, scurrying around, running little roach errands! Ha ha ha ha ha ha!
Lloyd Henreid
What?
[Lloyd pulls out his gun, then looks back at Flagg.]
SHOOT HIM, YOU IDIOT! SHOOT HIM!
Lloyd Henreid
He's an old man.
[Flagg starts to move toward Lloyd, who casually fires into the bars without effect.]
Can't you do anything RIGHT?! HE'S STANDING RIGHT IN FRONT O' YA!
If you really feel you must shoot somebody, Mr. Henreid, I suggest Flagg. His world is crumbling, and we both know it. I think we also both know he can do a lot of damage on his way down. You could change that.
Well, shoot one of us, anyway.
. . .
[Lloyd finally puts several shots into Glen, point-blank. Glen falls, then turns back toward Lloyd.]
It's all right, Mr. Henreid. You don't know any better.