#9: It's eleven to one.
#7: So, what do we do now?
#8: You're alone.
#3: I don't care if I'm alone or not! It's my right.
#8: It's your right.
#3: Well, what do you want from me?
#8: We want your arguments.
#3: I gave ya my arguments!
#8: We're not convinced! We want to hear them again. We have as much time as it takes.
#3: Everything... every single thing that came out in that courtroom, but I mean everything... says he's guilty. What d'ya think? I'm an idiot or somethin'? Why don't cha take that stuff about the old man; the old man who lived there and heard everything? Or the business about the knife! What, just because he found one exactly like it? The old man saw him. Right there on the stairs. What's the difference how many seconds it was? Every single thing. The knife falling through a hole in his pocket... you can't prove that he didn't get to the door! Sure, you can hobble around the room and take all the time you want, but you can't prove it! And that stuff with the El! And the movies! Now there's a phony deal if I ever saw one. I'd betcha five thousand dollars I'd remember the names of the movies I saw! I'm tellin' ya: every single thing that has went on has been twisted... and turned. This business with the glasses. How do you know she didn't have 'em on? This woman testified in open court! And that thing about hearin' the kid yell... huh? Listen, I've got all the facts here... [He struggles with his notebook, throws it on the table] Ah! Well, there it is! That's the whole case! [He turns towards the window as the other jurors stare at him] Well, say something! You lousy bunch of bleedin' hearts. You're not goin' to intimidate me! I'm entitled to my own opinion! [Sees the picture of his son on the table] Rotten kids... you work your life out! [He lunges at the picture and tears it to pieces. He suddenly realizes what he's doing, stops, then breaks down] No. Not guilty. Not guilty!
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