[upon receiving word that Carl Denham has hired a ship to get to a location for his picture]

What location, Carl?! You're supposed to be shooting on the back lot!

Yes, I understand that. But fellas, we're not making that film anymore. Things have changed. The script has been rewritten. Life... intervened. I've come into possession of a map. The sole surviving record of an uncharted island-- thought to exist only in myth! Until now...

Whoa. Carl. Slow down.

Is he asking for more money?

He's asking us to fund a wild goose chase.

I'm talking about a primative world... never before seen by man. That's where I'll shoot my picture.

Will there be boobies?

Boobies?

Jigglies. Jiblonkas. Bazooms. In my experience, people only go to these films to observe the undraped form of the native girls.

What are you, an idiot? You think they asked DeMill if he would waste his time on nudie shots? NO! They respected the filmmaker! They showed some class! Not that you'd know what that means, you cheap lowlife! God...

Would you step out for a moment, Carl?
[Carl leaves the room and points to a glass of water] Gimme that!

You won't like it. It's non-alcoholic.

[emptying the water into a plant pot]

Preston, you have a lot to learn about the motion picture business. [he presses the glass against the door and listens intently]

Don't get me wrong. Carl Denham's made some interesting pictures. He's had a lot of... near success.

He's a preening self promoter. Washed up, no talent. The guy's got 'loser' written all over him.

Look, I know his project isn't working out as well as we planned, but--

This jumped up little turd's gonna bankrupt us!

The animal footage has value.

Sure. Universal are desperate for stock footage.

Then sell it! Scrap the picture!

(sighs)

Get him back in.

Mr... Denham? [Carl and Preston have dissapeared from the waiting room]