This could’ve worked too, though.
Wallace: Man, whoever invented these, he off the hook!
Wallace: Motherfucker had to bone out all the damn chicken. Till he came along niggers been chewing on drumsticks and shit, getting their fingers all greasy. He said, “leave the bone. Snug that meat up and get some real money.”
Poot: You think the man got paid?…
Wallace: Shit, he richer than a motherfucker.
D’Angelo: Why? You think he get a percentage?
Wallace: Why not?
D’Angelo: Nigger, please. The man who invented them things is just some sad ass down at the basement at McDonald’s, thinking up some shit to make some money for the real players.
Poot: No, man, that ain’t right.
D’Angelo: Fuck right. It ain’t about right, it’s about money. Now you think Ronald McDonald gonna go down that basement and say, “Hey, Mr Nugget. You the bomb. We selling chicken faster than you can tear the bone out. So I’m a write my clowny-ass name on this fat-ass check for you.” … Man, the nigger who invented them things – still working in the basement for regular wage thinking of some shit to make the fries taste better.
Wallace: Still had the idea, though.
I don’t know how rich he was, but that inventor really is dead…
Additionally the disclosure, or threat of disclosure, is designed to influence a government and is made for the purpose of promoting a political or ideological cause. This therefore falls within the definition of terrorism.
The end of journalism may very well be in sight…
Ne manque que la voix de Claude Dubois…
Maybe the first game in history starring a giant cockroach?