MichaelOrme/Profane · Datasets at Hugging Face

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He was drunk that night. He left his coat at your house, after your mother seduced him...	I saw him leaving wearing it.
I saw him leaving wearing it.	But couldn't it have been someone else you saw wearing that coat? The same person who planted it in Cotton's car, framing him? The same person who really killed your mother?
Where do you get this shit?	Ricki Lake.
I have no idea.	Scary night, isn't it? With the murders and all, it's like right out of a horror movie or something.
Scary night, isn't it? With the murders and all, it's like right out of a horror movie or something.	Aha, Randy, you gave yourself away. Are you calling from work? Tatum's on her way over.
Aha, Randy, you gave yourself away. Are you calling from work? Tatum's on her way over.	Do you like scary movies, Sidney?
Do you like scary movies, Sidney?	I like that thing you're doing with your voice, Randy. It's sexy.
I like that thing you're doing with your voice, Randy. It's sexy.	What's your favorite scary movie?
What's your favorite scary movie?	Don't start. You know I don't watch that shit.
Don't start. You know I don't watch that shit.	And why is that?
And why is that?	Because they're all the same. It's always some stupid killer stalking some big breasted girl -- who can't act -- who always runs up the stairs when she should be going out the front door. They're ridiculous.
Besides -- "Takes a man to do something like that."	I'm gonna gut your ass in a second.
I'm gonna gut your ass in a second.	Did you really put her liver in the mailbox? I hear they found her liver in the mailbox.
There are certain rules that one must abide by in order to successfully survive a horror movie. For instance: 1. You can never have sex. The minute you get a little nookie -- you're as good as gone. Sex always equals death. 2. Never drink or do drugs. The sin factor. It's an extension of number one. And 3. Never, ever, ever, under any circumstances, say "I'll be right back."	Wanna another beer?
Wanna another beer?	Yeah.
Yeah.	I'll be right back.
You heard Billy -- shut the fuck up.	Hey, Stu? Didn't you use to date Casey?
Do you believe this shit?	What happened?
Shit, what is he doing here?	I bet he's pissed.
I bet he's pissed.	Just ignore him. You had good reason to think what you did.
It was just some sick fuck having a laugh.	It was him, Tatum. I know it.
Billy's right. Whenever he touches me, I just can't relax.	You have a few intimacy issues as a result of your mother's untimely death. It's no big deal. You'll thaw out.
You have a few intimacy issues as a result of your mother's untimely death. It's no big deal. You'll thaw out.	But he's been so patient with me, Tatum. You know, with all the sex stuff. How many guys would put up with a girlfriend who's sexually anorexic?
But he's been so patient with me, Tatum. You know, with all the sex stuff. How many guys would put up with a girlfriend who's sexually anorexic?	Billy and his penis don't deserve you.
What do you think about when you're having sex?	With Stu, there's little time to stop and reflect. But sometimes before, to relax and get in the mood, I think about Grant Goodeve.
Who?	Grant Goodeve -- the oldest brother on EIGHT IS ENOUGH. Remember that show? He was the one who lived off alone. He would come around every now and then with his guitar and sing "Eight is enough to fill our lives with love..." He had all these brain dead sisters and that idiot brother from CHARLES IN CHARGE. God, I was in love with Grant, he was so hot. The show came on every day after school right during my puberty years. Grant Goodeve was very instrumental in my maturing as a woman.
Grant Goodeve -- the oldest brother on EIGHT IS ENOUGH. Remember that show? He was the one who lived off alone. He would come around every now and then with his guitar and sing "Eight is enough to fill our lives with love..." He had all these brain dead sisters and that idiot brother from CHARLES IN CHARGE. God, I was in love with Grant, he was so hot. The show came on every day after school right during my puberty years. Grant Goodeve was very instrumental in my maturing as a woman.	How does that get you in the mood with Stu?
How does that get you in the mood with Stu?	During foreplay, I sing the theme song to myself. "Eight is enough to fill our lives with love..." It's a real turn on.
During foreplay, I sing the theme song to myself. "Eight is enough to fill our lives with love..." It's a real turn on.	No way.
No way.	Grant wrote the song himself. I'm convinced the lyrics had a secret meaning, "Eight is enough..."
I thought you dumped her for me.	I did. He's full of shit.
"Dear Detectives, Long is the way, and hard, that out of hell leads up to light." It's the murderer's way of announcing himself.	Announcing what?
Announcing what?	There are seven deadly sins. Gluttony, wrath, greed...
There are seven deadly sins. Gluttony, wrath, greed...	So what? This victim...
So what? This victim...	... envy, sloth, pride and lust. Seven.
... envy, sloth, pride and lust. Seven.	Hey, so gluttony is one of the seven deadly sins. But, this was a fat guy. The killer may have felt this was the just best way to torture him. And, writing on the walls happens all the time. It's like the fashionable thing to do.
Hey, so gluttony is one of the seven deadly sins. But, this was a fat guy. The killer may have felt this was the just best way to torture him. And, writing on the walls happens all the time. It's like the fashionable thing to do.	One is gluttony.
She was... she was on the bed. She was just sitting on the bed.	Who tied her down? You or him?
Who tied her down? You or him?	He had a gun. He had a gun... and he made it happen. He made me do it! He made me put that... that thing on. Oh, Christ! He made me wear it... and... and he told me to fuck her. He had the gun in my mouth.
Jesus Christ, man, don't shoot me!	Turn around. Hands on your head!
Turn around. Hands on your head!	What the hell's going on?
What the hell's going on?	Who are you? What are you doing out here?
Who are you? What are you doing out here?	I'm... I'm just delivering a package.
I... I doubt I enjoyed it any more than... Detective Mills would enjoy some time alone with me in a room without windows. Isn't that true? How happy would it make you to hurt me, with impunity?	Now... I wouldn't do something like that, Johnny. I like you. I like you a lot.
Now... I wouldn't do something like that, Johnny. I like you. I like you a lot.	You wouldn't because you know there are consequences. It's in those eyes of yours, though... nothing wrong with a man taking pleasure in his work. I won't deny my own personal desire to turn each sin against the sinner. I only took their sins to logical conclusions.
You wouldn't because you know there are consequences. It's in those eyes of yours, though... nothing wrong with a man taking pleasure in his work. I won't deny my own personal desire to turn each sin against the sinner. I only took their sins to logical conclusions.	You only killed a bunch of innocent people so you could get your rocks off. That's all.
You only killed a bunch of innocent people so you could get your rocks off. That's all.	Innocent? Is that supposed to be funny? Look at the people I killed. An obese man, a disgusting man who could barely stand up... who if you saw him on the street, you'd point so your friends could mock him along with you. Who if you saw him while you were eating, you wouldn't be able to finish your meal. After him I picked the lawyer. And, you both must have been secretly thanking me for that one. This was a man who dedicated his life to making money by lying with every breath he could muster... to keeping rapists and murderers on the streets.
Innocent? Is that supposed to be funny? Look at the people I killed. An obese man, a disgusting man who could barely stand up... who if you saw him on the street, you'd point so your friends could mock him along with you. Who if you saw him while you were eating, you wouldn't be able to finish your meal. After him I picked the lawyer. And, you both must have been secretly thanking me for that one. This was a man who dedicated his life to making money by lying with every breath he could muster... to keeping rapists and murderers on the streets.	Murderers?
Murderers?	A woman...
A woman...	Murderers like you?
Murderers like you?	A woman... so ugly on the inside that she couldn't bare to go on living if she couldn't be beautiful on the outside. A drug dealer... a drug dealing pederast, actually. And, don't forget the disease spreading whore. Only in a world this shitty could you even try to say these were innocent people and keep a straight face. That's the point. You see a deadly sin on almost every street corner, and in every home, literally. And we tolerate it. Because it's common, it seems trivial, and we tolerate, all day long, morning, noon and night. Not anymore. I'm setting the example, and it's going to be puzzled over and studied and followed, from now on.
A woman... so ugly on the inside that she couldn't bare to go on living if she couldn't be beautiful on the outside. A drug dealer... a drug dealing pederast, actually. And, don't forget the disease spreading whore. Only in a world this shitty could you even try to say these were innocent people and keep a straight face. That's the point. You see a deadly sin on almost every street corner, and in every home, literally. And we tolerate it. Because it's common, it seems trivial, and we tolerate, all day long, morning, noon and night. Not anymore. I'm setting the example, and it's going to be puzzled over and studied and followed, from now on.	Delusions of grandeur.
Delusions of grandeur.	You should be thanking me.
You should be thanking me.	And, why is that?
And, why is that?	You're going to be remembered, and it's all because of me. And, the only reason I'm here right now is because I wanted to be.
You're going to be remembered, and it's all because of me. And, the only reason I'm here right now is because I wanted to be.	We would have gotten you eventually.
We would have gotten you eventually.	Really? Just biding your time, then? Toying with me. Is that it? Letting five people die until you finally felt like going out and hauling me in?
Here he comes.	What the fuck is going on?
What the fuck is going on?	I want you to know, I wish I could have lived like you do.
You've seen my files, right? Seen the things I've done?	No.
No.	Anyway... I did my time on door-to-doors, and walking a beat. I did all that shit for a long time.
Anyway... I did my time on door-to-doors, and walking a beat. I did all that shit for a long time.	Good.
Good.	The badge in my pocket says "detective," same as yours.
The badge in my pocket says "detective," same as yours.	I made a decision, because I have to consider the integrity of the scene. I can't worry whether you think you're getting enough time on the playing field.
I made a decision, because I have to consider the integrity of the scene. I can't worry whether you think you're getting enough time on the playing field.	Yeah, well, all I want is... Just, just don't be jerking me off. That's all I ask. Don't jerk me off.
He ate his fill, and was forced to continue eating... till his body rejected the food. the killer held a bucket under him, and then kept serving. He took his time. The coroner says this might have gone on for more than twelve hours. The victim's throat was swollen from the effort, and there was probably a point where he passed out. That's when killer kicked him in the stomach. Popped him.	This was one sadistic motherfucker.
What the fuck is that?	A switchblade.
There must be something.	We're screwed. He's fucking with us.
He just may be nuts enough.	It doesn't fit. He doesn't want us to help him stop.
It doesn't fit. He doesn't want us to help him stop.	Who the hell knows? There's plenty of freaks out there doing dirty deeds they don't want to do. You know... little voices tell them bad things.
How did the fire fight end?	I got him. I got the son-of-a-bitch. See, I was doing really good up till then. Lots of street busts. I've always had this weird luck... everything always went my way, but this was wild. I got him with one shot... right between the eyes. Next thing I know, the mayor's pinning a medal on me. Picture in the paper, whole nine yards.
The way this has gone till now, I wouldn't have thought it was possible, but we may have underestimated this guy.	I want him bad. I don't just want to catch him anymore. I want to hurt him.
I want him bad. I don't just want to catch him anymore. I want to hurt him.	Listen to me. He's all about playing games.
Listen to me. He's all about playing games.	No kidding! No fucking kidding!
No kidding! No fucking kidding!	We have to divorce ourselves from emotions here. No matter how hard it is, we have to stay focused on the details.
We have to divorce ourselves from emotions here. No matter how hard it is, we have to stay focused on the details.	I don't know about you, but I feed off my emotions.
I don't know about you, but I feed off my emotions.	He'll string us along all the way if we're not careful.
This quote... his first words to us. I looked it up. It's from Milton's Paradise Lost. "Long is the way, and hard, that out of hell leads up to light... "	And so what?
And so what?	Well, he's been right so far, hasn't he?
Well, he's been right so far, hasn't he?	Just because the bastard has a library card, it doesn't make him Einstein.
Just because the bastard has a library card, it doesn't make him Einstein.	Just, realize... this is not some common lunatic. The type of intestinal fortitude it must take... to keep a man bound for a full year. To connect tubes to his genitals. To sever his hand and use it to plant fingerprints. He's methodical and exacting, and worst of all, he's patient.
Just, realize... this is not some common lunatic. The type of intestinal fortitude it must take... to keep a man bound for a full year. To connect tubes to his genitals. To sever his hand and use it to plant fingerprints. He's methodical and exacting, and worst of all, he's patient.	What does all that matter anyway? It's not our job to figure him out, is it? All we have to do is catching him.
The hell I can't! We get in there and we can stop him.	We need a warrant.
We need a warrant.	We have probable cause now.
Think about it...	What the fuck is wrong with you?
What the fuck is wrong with you?	Think about how we got here!
Well, there are at least five thousand notebooks in this room, and near as I can tell, each notebook contains two hundred and fifty pages.	Then, he must write about these murders.
Then, he must write about these murders.	"What sick, ridiculous, puppets we are, and what a gross, little stage we dance on. What fun we have, dancing and fucking, not a care in the world. Not knowing that we are nothing. We are not what was intended."
The irony is, after a day of the type of work he did, he'd come home and read me these morbid crime stories. Murders in the Rue Morgue. Le Fanu's Green Tea. My mother would give him hell because he was keeping me up till all hours.	Sounds like a father who wanted his son to follow in his footsteps.
Sounds like a father who wanted his son to follow in his footsteps.	One birthday he gave me this brand new hardcover book, "The Century of the Detective," by Jurgen Thorwald. It traced the history of deduction as a science, and it sealed my fate, because it was real, not fiction. And, that a drop of blood or a piece of hair could solve a crime... it was incredible to me.
You know... there's not going to be a happy ending to this. It's not possible anymore.	If we get him, I'll be happy enough.
If we get him, I'll be happy enough.	No. Face it now. Stop thinking it's good guys against bad guys.
No. Face it now. Stop thinking it's good guys against bad guys.	How can you say that? Especially after today?
How can you say that? Especially after today?	Don't try to focus on things as black and white, because you'll go blind. There's no winning and losing here.
Don't try to focus on things as black and white, because you'll go blind. There's no winning and losing here.	You're the oldest man I know, Somerset.
You're the oldest man I know, Somerset.	You tell me, then... you walk into an apartment, and a man has beaten his wife to death, or the wife murdered the husband, and you have to wash the blood off their children. You put the killer in jail. Who won?
You tell me, then... you walk into an apartment, and a man has beaten his wife to death, or the wife murdered the husband, and you have to wash the blood off their children. You put the killer in jail. Who won?	You do your job...
You do your job...	Where's the victory?
Where's the victory?	You follow the law and do the best you can. It's all there.
You follow the law and do the best you can. It's all there.	Just know that in this case there's not going to be any satisfaction. If we caught John Doe and he were the devil himself, if it turned out he were actually Satan, then, that might live up to our expectations. No human being could do these things, right? But, this is not the devil. It's just a man.

He was drunk that night. He left his coat at your house, after your mother seduced him...

I saw him leaving wearing it.

But couldn't it have been someone else you saw wearing that coat? The same person who planted it in Cotton's car, framing him? The same person who really killed your mother?

Where do you get this shit?

Ricki Lake.

I have no idea.

Scary night, isn't it? With the murders and all, it's like right out of a horror movie or something.

Aha, Randy, you gave yourself away. Are you calling from work? Tatum's on her way over.

Do you like scary movies, Sidney?

I like that thing you're doing with your voice, Randy. It's sexy.

What's your favorite scary movie?

Don't start. You know I don't watch that shit.

And why is that?

Because they're all the same. It's always some stupid killer stalking some big breasted girl -- who can't act -- who always runs up the stairs when she should be going out the front door. They're ridiculous.

Besides -- "Takes a man to do something like that."

I'm gonna gut your ass in a second.

Did you really put her liver in the mailbox? I hear they found her liver in the mailbox.

There are certain rules that one must abide by in order to successfully survive a horror movie. For instance: 1. You can never have sex. The minute you get a little nookie -- you're as good as gone. Sex always equals death. 2. Never drink or do drugs. The sin factor. It's an extension of number one. And 3. Never, ever, ever, under any circumstances, say "I'll be right back."

Wanna another beer?

Yeah.

I'll be right back.

You heard Billy -- shut the fuck up.

Hey, Stu? Didn't you use to date Casey?

Do you believe this shit?

What happened?

Shit, what is he doing here?

I bet he's pissed.

Just ignore him. You had good reason to think what you did.

It was just some sick fuck having a laugh.

It was him, Tatum. I know it.

Billy's right. Whenever he touches me, I just can't relax.

You have a few intimacy issues as a result of your mother's untimely death. It's no big deal. You'll thaw out.

But he's been so patient with me, Tatum. You know, with all the sex stuff. How many guys would put up with a girlfriend who's sexually anorexic?

Billy and his penis don't deserve you.

What do you think about when you're having sex?

With Stu, there's little time to stop and reflect. But sometimes before, to relax and get in the mood, I think about Grant Goodeve.

Who?

Grant Goodeve -- the oldest brother on EIGHT IS ENOUGH. Remember that show? He was the one who lived off alone. He would come around every now and then with his guitar and sing "Eight is enough to fill our lives with love..." He had all these brain dead sisters and that idiot brother from CHARLES IN CHARGE. God, I was in love with Grant, he was so hot. The show came on every day after school right during my puberty years. Grant Goodeve was very instrumental in my maturing as a woman.

How does that get you in the mood with Stu?

During foreplay, I sing the theme song to myself. "Eight is enough to fill our lives with love..." It's a real turn on.

No way.

Grant wrote the song himself. I'm convinced the lyrics had a secret meaning, "Eight is enough..."

I thought you dumped her for me.

I did. He's full of shit.

"Dear Detectives, Long is the way, and hard, that out of hell leads up to light." It's the murderer's way of announcing himself.

Announcing what?

There are seven deadly sins. Gluttony, wrath, greed...

So what? This victim...

... envy, sloth, pride and lust. Seven.

Hey, so gluttony is one of the seven deadly sins. But, this was a fat guy. The killer may have felt this was the just best way to torture him. And, writing on the walls happens all the time. It's like the fashionable thing to do.

One is gluttony.

She was... she was on the bed. She was just sitting on the bed.

Who tied her down? You or him?

He had a gun. He had a gun... and he made it happen. He made me do it! He made me put that... that thing on. Oh, Christ! He made me wear it... and... and he told me to fuck her. He had the gun in my mouth.

Jesus Christ, man, don't shoot me!

Turn around. Hands on your head!

What the hell's going on?

Who are you? What are you doing out here?

I'm... I'm just delivering a package.

I... I doubt I enjoyed it any more than... Detective Mills would enjoy some time alone with me in a room without windows. Isn't that true? How happy would it make you to hurt me, with impunity?

Now... I wouldn't do something like that, Johnny. I like you. I like you a lot.

You wouldn't because you know there are consequences. It's in those eyes of yours, though... nothing wrong with a man taking pleasure in his work. I won't deny my own personal desire to turn each sin against the sinner. I only took their sins to logical conclusions.

You only killed a bunch of innocent people so you could get your rocks off. That's all.

Innocent? Is that supposed to be funny? Look at the people I killed. An obese man, a disgusting man who could barely stand up... who if you saw him on the street, you'd point so your friends could mock him along with you. Who if you saw him while you were eating, you wouldn't be able to finish your meal. After him I picked the lawyer. And, you both must have been secretly thanking me for that one. This was a man who dedicated his life to making money by lying with every breath he could muster... to keeping rapists and murderers on the streets.

Murderers?

A woman...

Murderers like you?

A woman... so ugly on the inside that she couldn't bare to go on living if she couldn't be beautiful on the outside. A drug dealer... a drug dealing pederast, actually. And, don't forget the disease spreading whore. Only in a world this shitty could you even try to say these were innocent people and keep a straight face. That's the point. You see a deadly sin on almost every street corner, and in every home, literally. And we tolerate it. Because it's common, it seems trivial, and we tolerate, all day long, morning, noon and night. Not anymore. I'm setting the example, and it's going to be puzzled over and studied and followed, from now on.

Delusions of grandeur.

You should be thanking me.

And, why is that?

You're going to be remembered, and it's all because of me. And, the only reason I'm here right now is because I wanted to be.

We would have gotten you eventually.

Really? Just biding your time, then? Toying with me. Is that it? Letting five people die until you finally felt like going out and hauling me in?

Here he comes.

What the fuck is going on?

I want you to know, I wish I could have lived like you do.

You've seen my files, right? Seen the things I've done?

No.

Anyway... I did my time on door-to-doors, and walking a beat. I did all that shit for a long time.

Good.

The badge in my pocket says "detective," same as yours.

I made a decision, because I have to consider the integrity of the scene. I can't worry whether you think you're getting enough time on the playing field.

Yeah, well, all I want is... Just, just don't be jerking me off. That's all I ask. Don't jerk me off.

He ate his fill, and was forced to continue eating... till his body rejected the food. the killer held a bucket under him, and then kept serving. He took his time. The coroner says this might have gone on for more than twelve hours. The victim's throat was swollen from the effort, and there was probably a point where he passed out. That's when killer kicked him in the stomach. Popped him.

This was one sadistic motherfucker.

What the fuck is that?

A switchblade.

There must be something.

We're screwed. He's fucking with us.

He just may be nuts enough.

It doesn't fit. He doesn't want us to help him stop.

Who the hell knows? There's plenty of freaks out there doing dirty deeds they don't want to do. You know... little voices tell them bad things.

How did the fire fight end?

I got him. I got the son-of-a-bitch. See, I was doing really good up till then. Lots of street busts. I've always had this weird luck... everything always went my way, but this was wild. I got him with one shot... right between the eyes. Next thing I know, the mayor's pinning a medal on me. Picture in the paper, whole nine yards.

The way this has gone till now, I wouldn't have thought it was possible, but we may have underestimated this guy.

I want him bad. I don't just want to catch him anymore. I want to hurt him.

Listen to me. He's all about playing games.

No kidding! No fucking kidding!

We have to divorce ourselves from emotions here. No matter how hard it is, we have to stay focused on the details.

I don't know about you, but I feed off my emotions.

He'll string us along all the way if we're not careful.

This quote... his first words to us. I looked it up. It's from Milton's Paradise Lost. "Long is the way, and hard, that out of hell leads up to light... "

And so what?

Well, he's been right so far, hasn't he?

Just because the bastard has a library card, it doesn't make him Einstein.

Just, realize... this is not some common lunatic. The type of intestinal fortitude it must take... to keep a man bound for a full year. To connect tubes to his genitals. To sever his hand and use it to plant fingerprints. He's methodical and exacting, and worst of all, he's patient.

What does all that matter anyway? It's not our job to figure him out, is it? All we have to do is catching him.

The hell I can't! We get in there and we can stop him.

We need a warrant.

We have probable cause now.

Think about it...

What the fuck is wrong with you?

Think about how we got here!

Well, there are at least five thousand notebooks in this room, and near as I can tell, each notebook contains two hundred and fifty pages.

Then, he must write about these murders.

"What sick, ridiculous, puppets we are, and what a gross, little stage we dance on. What fun we have, dancing and fucking, not a care in the world. Not knowing that we are nothing. We are not what was intended."

The irony is, after a day of the type of work he did, he'd come home and read me these morbid crime stories. Murders in the Rue Morgue. Le Fanu's Green Tea. My mother would give him hell because he was keeping me up till all hours.

Sounds like a father who wanted his son to follow in his footsteps.

One birthday he gave me this brand new hardcover book, "The Century of the Detective," by Jurgen Thorwald. It traced the history of deduction as a science, and it sealed my fate, because it was real, not fiction. And, that a drop of blood or a piece of hair could solve a crime... it was incredible to me.

You know... there's not going to be a happy ending to this. It's not possible anymore.

If we get him, I'll be happy enough.

No. Face it now. Stop thinking it's good guys against bad guys.

How can you say that? Especially after today?

Don't try to focus on things as black and white, because you'll go blind. There's no winning and losing here.

You're the oldest man I know, Somerset.

You tell me, then... you walk into an apartment, and a man has beaten his wife to death, or the wife murdered the husband, and you have to wash the blood off their children. You put the killer in jail. Who won?

You do your job...

Where's the victory?

You follow the law and do the best you can. It's all there.

Just know that in this case there's not going to be any satisfaction. If we caught John Doe and he were the devil himself, if it turned out he were actually Satan, then, that might live up to our expectations. No human being could do these things, right? But, this is not the devil. It's just a man.