[Warden Moores storms into the room after Delacroix's excrutiatingly long electrocution.] Hal Moores: What in the blue **** was that?!? Jesus Christ! There's puke all over the floor up there… And the smell! I got Van Hay to open both doors, but that smell won't go out for five damn years, that's what I'm bettin'. And that asshole, Wharton, is singing about it! You can hear him up there!
Paul Edgecombe: [calmly] Can he carry a tune, Hal?
[Moores takes the hint and laughs grimly, regaining his composure.]
Hal Moores: Okay, boys, okay. Now, what in the hell happened?
Paul Edgecombe: An execution. A successful one.
Hal Moores: How in the name of Christ can you call that a success?
Paul Edgecombe: Eduard Delacroix is dead.
[Edgecomb looks at Percy.]
Paul Edgecombe: Isn't he.
Hal Moores: Percy? Something to say?
Percy Wetmore: [meekly] I didn't know the sponge was supposed to be wet.
Hal Moores: How many years you spend pissing on a toilet seat before someone told you to put it up?
Paul Edgecombe: [calmly] Percy ****ed up, Hal. Pure and simple.
Hal Moores: That your official position?
Paul Edgecombe: Don't you think it should be? He's puttin' in for a transfer request to Briar Ridge tomorrow. Movin' on to bigger and better things. Isn't that right, Percy?
Percy Wetmore: Yeah. Yeah.
Wild Bill: [singing off-camera] Bar-be-QUE!
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