Guest
Trask: Mr. Sims, you are a cover-up artist and you are a liar. Frank Slade: But he's not a snitch! Trask: Excuse me? Frank Slade: No, I don't think I will. Trask: Mr. Slade! Frank Slade:This is such a crock of shit! Trask: Please watch your language, Mr. Slade. You are in the Baird School not the barracks. Now Mr. Sims I will give you one final opportunity to speak up. Frank Slade: Mr. Sims doesn't want it. He doesn't need to be labeled, “...still worthy of being a 'Baird Man.'“ What the hell is that? What is your motto here? Boys, inform on your classmates, save your hide. Anything short of that we're gonna burn you at the stake? Well, gentlemen. When the shit hits the fan, some guys run and some guys stay. Here's Charlie--facing the fire, and there's George--hiding in big Daddy's pocket. And what are you doing? You're gonna reward George, and destroy Charlie. Trask: Are you finished, Mr. Slade? Frank Slade: No. I'm just gettin' warmed up. I don't know who went to this place--William Howard Taft, William Jennings Bryan, William Tell--whoever. Their spirit is dead; if they ever had one, it's gone. You're building a rat ship here. A vessel for sea-going snitches. And if you think your preparing these “minnows“ for manhood, you better think again. Because I say you are killing the very spirit this institution proclaims it instills! What a sham! What kind of show are you guys puttin' on here today? I mean, the only class in this act is sittin' next to me. And I'm here to tell you, this boy's soul is in tact. It is non-negotiable. You know how I know? Because someone here--I'm not gonna say who--offered to buy it. Only Charlie here wasn't selling. : Sir, you are out of order! Frank Slade: Out of order, I'll show you out of order! You don't know what out of order is Mr. Trask! I'd show you but I'm too old, I'm too tired,
