Neal Oliver – Character Quotes

— The fact is ma'am, here your son's legal age. He wants to stay... He can't be forced to leave. And... He wants to stay. No, they all do. They're addicts.
— But he's just a boy. He didn't know what he was doing.
— Oh, no no. He knew. They all knew, that's why there are all those warnings posted all over town.
— Yeah, but if this drug is so addictive, why is it legal?
— Son... This town had serious drug problem. And all the problems that go along with it. We tried everything. Punishment for dealing, punishment for using. More enforcement, tougher enforcement, jail, hell, public humiliation. But, it all came down to one thing. Some folks... just wanna get high. So... We came up with a radical solution... Euphoria. Synthetic drug. Potent, legal, and totally addictive, and we warn everyone, not to use it. But like I said, some folks just wanna get high. One hit of this, and you are hooked. And we own them. Camp controls the supplies so of course we can set the prize, and we made it very affordable. Live in our camps, eat our food, and... you know, just do a couple of off jobs, pick up spome trash, mow the lawn, clean some toilets, and you get your Euphoria. And at night, man... party till you drop. The thrall is so intense, that everybody pays the price. It's an incredible achievement, really. Drug so powerful that it sublimates the sex drive.
— Are you saying Philip's going to be cleaning toilettes for the rest of his life? With no sex drive? He'll never marry. I'll never have grandchildren?

— Hey, Bob Cody. I don't drive. And I don't like to hitch-hike. When hitch-hike, I'm at the marcy of the driver. But when I pay for the ride, I'm the employer, and I call the shots. That's how I like it. So... you wonna work for me?
— Well, I'm going to Danver. I wouldn't mind making some money.
— Good. I'm going to Renburg. It's on your way. Here's mine proposition. You pay for gas, pay for your meals. No alcohol while you're on pay role. I pick radio stations, I initiate all conversations. I'll pay you ten dolars casch every hour. And the mileage money, when we get to Renburg. In all other matters... You play straight with me, I'll play straight with you. So, we have a contract?
— We have a contract.
— So, who is my new employee?
— Neal Oliver.
— Mr. Oliver, you may call me «Mr. Cody». Or «sir».
— You got it sir.

— Who are you mister?
— The O. W stands for One Wish. That's what I do. I grant wishes. One to a customer. Your was more interesting, then most. Open ended. Signifies thought instead of greed. That's what I get most of the time. Gimme, gimme, gimme, gimme this, gimme that... Usually money, or sex, or easy living. How I deliver. Yeah, that depends on what mood I'm in.
— Eight Ball, is this guy bull-shitting me?
Magic 8 ball: — That's for you to decide.

— Oh, I forgot to give you, your birthday present. Remember your wish?
— An answer!
— Yeah.
— That's great.
— Yeah, gets greater. Go on, go ahead. Try it. «Yes» or «No» questions.
— OK, hmmm... Eight ball, is there an Interstate 60?
Magic 8 ball: — There is for you, Neal. Turn right at the stop sign.
— I told you, it'd get greater.

— So, what if I'm dead? What if I'm dead, right now. There is no reason, why shouldn't drive on oncoming traffic, right?
— OK, go ahead. Try it. But that's way you accelerated in way of the big semi, coming at us, which should be in about 25 seconds, I figure. Come to this. Now, if you are dead... Then, this is the after life, and you made a deal with a guy, sealed in blood, who knew everything about you, even what you are going to say, before you said it. Now who do you think, that guy might be? And... do you think it is a good idea to piss him of? Oh, I love this highway.

It's just easy if I role with it. And maybe someone will steal it.

— I wished for... an answer.
— An answer, OK an answer to what?
— An answer to my life.

— Fred... Mr. Oliver is a potential fugitive. Lock him up.
— Lock me up?
— Of course. We lawyers have to protect out livelihood.
— Hey, you can't do this to me. I have rights.
— I know you do, sweetie. I'm here to protect them.

— Okay, so if everyone who lives here is a lawyer, how do you live? I mean, who runs the grocery store? Who does your dry-cleaning? Who fixes the shitter when it breaks?
— Well, we all moonlight on the law-related jobs. You know, police, bailiffs, court reporters. But those other, trivial things you mentioned? They're done by people like you awaiting trial. It's the only way they can afford their legal fees.

— I could sue you for that. You just made a defamatory remark about this town. Hey, are you looking at my legs? I could sue you for that too, sexual harassment.
— Is there anything you can't sue me for?
— Hire me. That way, everything between us is subject to attorney-client privilege. I'm $75 an hour. First hour is free.
— Well, at least you know my case. All right, you're hired.

I worked graveyard shift at a grocery warehouse, filling orders for the trucks to take to the various stores in the morning. I liked it for three reasons: I'd gotten the job on my own, it paid enough that I did not have to ask the old man for cash, and it annoyed Daniel that his son was even working at such a low class job.

As I said, it all started on my 22nd birthday, specifically here at my traditional birthday lunch. As always my father had picked the restaurant. Attending were the usual suspects: Sally, who my parents actually liked, maybe even more than I did; my dad, Daniel, attorney-at-law; my mom, Marlene, the attorney's wife; and my sister and best friend, Nancy, put on earth by the grace of God to keep me from going insane.

Oh, and Dad, that thing? It's crap. You got ripped off. [pointing at a painting on a wall] And it's upside down.

— Yo bitch! I want back my fuckin' cloths, you cocksucker's confiscated. I shouldn't be fuckin' wearin' this, I'm on leash no more. Hey, handsome... What you looking at me like that for?
— I just didn't expect you to talk that way.
— What, something wrong with the way I fuckin' talk?
— No, no, no, no, no, no. I mean, YES. Yes. You make Mike Tyson sound like an Oxford graduate.

— Happy birthday son. Your admition to the Bradford Law Fellowship. Just do the interviev next month, on October 15th, and you're in. It's all aranged. By me. And you can take that to the bank.
— Dad, I told you, I wasn't sure yet.
— Well, I can be sure for the both of us.