Brazil (1985) - full transcript

Central Services

We do the work, you do the pleasure

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to suit your demanding taste.

We have here
from the Ministry of Information...



Deputy Minister Eugene Helpmann.

Good evening, David.

What d'you believe is behind
this recent increase in terrorist bombings?

Bad sportsmanship.

A ruthless minority of people...

seems to have forgotten
certain good old-fashioned virtues.

They just can't stand seeing
the other fellow win.

If these people would just play the game...

they'd get a lot more out of life.

Nevertheless,
there are those who maintain...

that the Ministry of Information
has become too large and unwieldy.

In free society,
information is the name of the game.

You can't win the game
if you're a man short.

The cost of it all,
seven percent of the gross national product.



I understand this concern
on behalf of the taxpayers.

People want value for money.
That is why we always insist...

on the principle
of Information Retrieval Charges.

It's absolutely right and fair...

that those found guilty
should pay for their periods of detention...

and for the information retrieval procedures
used in their interrogation.

Do you believe the government
is winning against terrorists?

Oh, yes.

We're fielding all their strokes,
running all of them out...

and pretty consistently
knocking them for six.

I'd say they're nearly out of the game.

HELPMANN: Have to subsidize.

Mr. Helpmann, the bombing campaign
is now in its thirteenth year.

Beginner's luck.

Thank you very much, Deputy Minister.

Thank you, David.
And a very merry Christmas to you all.

"Scrooge was better than his word.

"He did it all, and infinitely more.

"And to Tiny Tim, who did not die...

"he became a second father.

"He became as good a friend,
in the good old world.

"And so, as Tiny Tim observed...

"God bless us, everyone."

Are you boys
giving me the runaround?

Now, I have to say, "Hey, hey."

Don't throw that.
That's only for long distance.

I'm sorry, we haven't any vacancies.
No vacancies?

We've got plenty of rooms...

Who's there?

Who is that?

Father Christmas can't come
if we haven't got a chimney.

You'll see.

"I hereby inform you,
under powers entrusted to me...

"under Section 47, Paragraph 7
of Council Order Number 438476...

"that Mr. Buttle, Archibald, residing
in 412 North Tower, Shangri-La Towers...

"is invited to assist
the Ministry of Information with inquiries.

"And that he is liable
to financial obligations as specified in...

"Council Order RBICZl907IX."

Sign here, please.

Where are you taking him?

There.

Thank you.

Same again, please.

Press harder this time. Good.

What is this all about?

That is your receipt for your husband.
Thank you.

This is my receipt for your receipt.

Mrs. Buttle, are you okay?

We're Department of Works!
Department of Works up here.

Careful with those bloody things.
Sure.

Don't take any notice of them.

Don't touch me!
Why don't you just get out of here.

Don't you worry.
We'll have everything shipshape in a jiffy.

Nothing to worry about.

It's Tuttle downstairs who can worry.

Tuttle? His name's Buttle.
There must be some mistake.

Mistake? We don't make mistakes.

Bloody typical. They've gone back
to metric without telling us.

Mrs. Buttle, are you all right?

Yes...

Buttle.

Buttle, Archibald.

Oh, shit!

Mister...

Mr. Lowry, would you step in here, please.

Has anybody seen Lowry?

Has anybody seen...

Sam Lowry?

Sam.

Hello? Sam. Where are you?

Hello?
It's 11:00.

- What?
- It's 11:00.

Mr. Kurtzmann.

You're up late.

Is it?

- The electrics here are up the spout.
- Yeah, I know.

- Yours, too?
- Yes.

I'll be there as soon as I can.
Yes, thanks. 'Bye.

This is not the only statue.

What's this gun for?

This one, Sister,
is a nine millimeter submachine gun...

used for close-quarter combat fighting.
Very effective weapon.

Would you like to see it?

Sam!

Jack!

Long time no see.

What are you doing here?

Didn't expect to see you
slumming it in Records.

- What's the problem?
- Problem? No problem.

Everything's fine. Marvelous.

Alison's in great shape, kids are fine.
I'm on Security Level 5...

so Mr. Helpmann relies on me
more and more. It's been a great year.

You sound worried.

Worried? Me?
If I'm worried about anyone, Sam, it's you.

Sam, whatever happened to you?

Records...

Sam?

Jack, it's great to see you.
I'm going to be late.

Sam, let a friend tell you
your life is going wrong.

Records is a dead-end department.
No security that's worth a damn.

- It's impossible to get noticed.
- I know. Wonderful.

Marvelous. Perfect.

See you, Jack.
Give my regards to Alison and the twins.

- Triplets.
- Triplets?

God, how time flies.

A very clear delineation of picture, is it not?
Mobile.

Next!

I want to report a wrongful arrest.

You want Information Adjustments.
Different department.

I've been to Information Adjustments.
They sent me here.

They said you have a form I need to fill out.

- Have you got an arrest receipt?
- Yeah.

Is it stamped?

Stamped?

No, there's no stamp on it, you see.

I can't let you have the form
until this is stamped.

Where do I get it stamped?

Information Adjustments.

It's nothing.

It keeps picking up old films.
That can't be right, can it?

Perhaps the machine's on the blink.

It's not the machine. There's
a mismatch on the personnel code numbers.

Tuttle should've had ?31.06
debited against his account, not Buttle.

- My God, a mistake!
- At least it's not ours.

Isn't it? Whose is it?

- Information Retrieval.
- Good.

Expediting has put in
for electrical procedures in respect of...

Buttle, Archibald, shoe-repair operative.

But Security has invoiced Admin.
For Tuttle, Archibald, heating engineer.

What a relief. Well, finish your tea, Sam.

Thanks.

I don't know what I'd do
if you ever got promoted.

- God, don't worry about that.
- But if they did promote you...

I've told you before. I'd turn it down.

- Would you, really?
- Really.

You've been promoted.

It's your mother, isn't it?
Pulling strings again.

Sam, it's time for you to grow up
and accept responsibility.

Your poor father would be appalled
at your lack of promotion.

Mother, I just wish
you would stop interfering.

I don't want promotion.
I'm happy where I am.

No, you're not. Jack Lint is a lesson to you.

He doesn't have your brains,
but he's got the ambition.

You haven't got the ambition. Luckily,
you've got me and the Deputy Minister.

- Mr. Helpmann was very close to your father.
- Now please, Mrs. Lowry. Don't get upset.

Mr. Lowry, please wait in the reception.
You're giving her wrinkles.

- You see?
- God!

Just try and relax, Mrs. Lowry.

I'll make you 20 years younger.

Dr. Jaffe, you are a genius.

Would you like to be Surgeon General?

I know simply everybody.

They won't know you
when I've finished with you.

First...

we remove the excess derma.

Now the flaccid tissues
under the eyes and forehead.

Now, I lift...

the wrinkles and the worry lines...

right up into the wig, into the hairline.

Now the template.

Now, a bit of sticky. Comme ca!

Already she's twice as beautiful
as she was before.

Voila!

Mr. Helpmann
was very close to your poor father.

He was close to me. He still is.

He'll take you under his wing
when you get to Information Retrieval.

You'll like it there.

You're not listening to me, Mother.

SECURITY GUARD:
What the hell is this, lady?

It's a present for my son. Really!

I hope you like it. It's very exclusive.

What on earth is it?

Something for an executive.

Madam Lowry! You look exquisite today.
Merry Christmas.

Hello, Spiro. Merry Christmas.

- You remember my son, Samuel?
- Of course.

We're joining Mrs. Terrain.

Yes, they're waiting.

- Mother, I thought we'd be able to talk.
- We will.

Ida!
She's got what's-her-name with her.

Well, Alma, how are you?

You look wonderful.

Hello, Shirley.

Thank you, Spiro.

- Salt?
- Not yet.

Sam, Happy Christmas.

So sorry we're late.
Thanks.

Now, Alma...

what are you going to have?

I can't make up my mind whether to have
the number one or the number two.

What do you recommend, Spiro?

Between you and me, madame...

- today the number two.
- Thank you, Spiro.

Shirley, what are you going to have?

Between you and me, mademoiselle,
today the number one.

Madam Lowry?

To hell with the diet!
I'm going to have a number eight, please.

- A most perceptive choice, if I may say so.
- Oh, Ida...

- Monsieur?
- Steak, please, rare. Mother...

- Monsieur, quel numero?
- I don't know which number.

- Mother, please...
- That one. There.

Thanks. Mother, will you...

Alma! You wicked girl.
You've started your treatments.

- Say the number, please.
- You noticed.

- You have to say the number!
- Go away!

I must tell you all about it.

Number three.

- Mother, will you listen to me?
- Numero huit.

Braised veal in wine sauce.

It's too exciting.
I've left Dr. Jaffe and gone to Dr. Chapman.

MAITRE D': Numero deux, duck a I'orange.

MOTHER: Chapman?
MAITRE D': Excusez-moi.

The acid man?

Really, Ida. Just because
his techniques are revolutionary.

I don't go around calling
Dr. Jaffe the knife man.

MAITRE D': Numero un,
crevettes a la mayonnaise.

I am sorry, Alma.

- I didn't mean to...
- It's all right, Ida.

Steak. Numero trois!

Mesdames, monsieur...

bon appetit!

- Merci!
- Merci!

Acid, on the other hand, can be used
for such wonderfully subtle shading...

such delicate nuances.

Like a Rembrandt etching.
And it is so much quicker.

If it wasn't for this complication,
it could've happened to anybody...

I'd have had this dressing off yesterday.

Shirley.

Salt?

What were we saying?

God, this isn't rare.

By the by, I saw the most wonderful idea
for Christmas presents at the chemist's.

Gift tokens. Medical gift tokens.

That sounds marvelous!

It's good at any doctor's
and most of the major hospitals.

It's also accepted
for gynecological examinations...

including Caesarian sections.

- Spiro.
- Madam, I don't know what to say.

This never happens to us. I'm going
to do something about it straightaway.

Sam, can't you do something
about these terrorists?

It's my lunch hour.

Besides, it's not my department.

Actually, Alma, that's one of the little things
I've been dying to tell you.

Sam's being promoted
to Information Retrieval.

Why, that's wonderful!
Congratulations, Sam.

Stop it! I'm not being promoted.
I'm not going to Information Retrieval.

If I wanted to upset you, Mother,
I'd tell you where to stick it.

Pepper?

I've got to go.

You haven't had your dessert.

I don't want dessert, promotion or anything!

Of course you want something.
You must have hopes, wishes, dreams?

No, nothing. Not even dreams.

Sam.

Sam!

Oh, God!

Hello. Central Services?

I'm at 579B, Block 19,
Northwestern Section D.

Exit 1 on Green Pastures Highway
at the Orange Blossom Flyover.

I've got trouble with my air conditioning.
It's an emergency.

Thanks for calling Central
Services. I'm sorry, due to staff shortages...

Central Services cannot take service calls
between 2300 and 0900 hours.

Have a nice day.
This has not been a recording.

This is an emergency!

- Thank you for calling Central Services...
- Look, I've got to have a heating engineer.

- Thank you for calling Central Services.
- Oh, shit!

Hello.

Hello.
Hello.

Hello, Mr. Lowry.

Yes, who is this?

Put the phone down and raise your hands.

What? Who is this?

Nice and easy, now.

Just keep your hands where I can see them.

What are you doing?

Harry Tuttle, heating engineer,
at your service.

Tuttle?

Are you from Central Services?

I called Central Services.

They're overworked these days.

Luckily, I intercepted your call.

You did...

Just a minute.
What was that business with the gun?

Just a precaution, sir.

I've had traps set for me before now.

Plenty of people in Central Services would
love to get their hands on Harry Tuttle.

Are you telling me that this is illegal?

Well, yes and no.

Officially, only Central Services
can touch this stuff.

Would you hold this, please?

But nowadays,
with all the new rules and regulations...

they can't get decent staff anymore.

They turn a blind eye as long as I'm careful.

But if they could prove that I've been
working on their equipment...

that's a plate of a different color.

- Wouldn't it be simpler just to...
- Hold this, please.

Sorry, yes.

I was saying, wouldn't it be simpler
to work with Central Services?

I couldn't stand the...

- It's getting warm.
- You couldn't stand the what?

I couldn't stand the paperwork.

Listen...

this system of yours could be on fire,
and I couldn't turn on a kitchen tap...

without filling out a 27Bl6.

Bloody paperwork.

I suppose one has to expect
a certain amount.

Why? I came into this
for the action, the excitement.

Go anywhere, travel light. Get in, get out,
wherever there's trouble. A man alone.

They've got the whole country sectioned off.
Can't make a move without a form.

Found it. There's your problem.

- Can you fix it?
- No, I can't.

But I can bypass it with one of these.

Fine by me.

- Are you expecting anyone?
- No.

Wait here. Wait.

The flashlight.

- Central Services.
- Central Services.

- Yes.
- You rang, sir.

Trouble with your air conditioning?

No, it's all right.

It's fixed.

It's fixed?

Yes. I mean, it fixed itself.

Fixed itself, did it?

Yes.

Machines don't fix themselves.

He's tampered with it.

Sorry you had a wasted journey.

I think we ought to have a look.

Have you got a 27Bl6?

A 27Bl6?

Now look what you've done to him.

Have you got a 27Bl6?

Not as such.

But we'll get one.

It's all right, it's all right.

Sorry. I'm a bit of a stickler for paperwork.

Where would we be
if we didn't stick to the correct procedures?

We'll be back.

We'll be back!

Thanks for coming.

We'll be back, you clever bastard!

Thank you.
SPOOR: We'll show you.

Thanks, Lowry.
You're a good man in a tight corner.

I just happen to work
at the Ministry of Information.

What?

I just happen to know that...

Information Retrieval
are looking for an Archibald Tuttle...

heating engineer.

You wouldn't by any chance... Would you?

My good friends call me Harry.

Information Retrieval?

The big boys.

What do they want you for?

Time to go.

How's that?

You really must let me give you something.

How much will it be for the work?

Come on. You did me a favor.
Just check the corridor.

Thanks.

Listen, kid. We're all in this together.

Go on.

All clear.

I think Kurtzmann is getting suspicious.

What's playing today?

Casablanca.

Mr. Lowry, step in here, please.

Lowry!

Now, Mr. Lowry!

Thank God you're here.
We're in terrible trouble.

Look at this.

- It's a check.
- It's the refund for Tuttle.

Tuttle?

Buttle. I mean Buttle.

It's been confusion from the word go.

He was overcharged
for Information Retrieval procedures.

And someone, somewhere,
is trying to make us carry the can.

Can I have a look?
I've never seen a refund check before.

I'll bet it's Jeffries.

Yes.

He believes that people
should pay more for their interrogation.

And B: He loathes me.

We've got to get rid of it.

Send it to somebody else.
Better still, send it to Buttle.

After all, it's his check.

I've tried that. Look at this.

You see?

The population census
has got him down as dormanted.

The Central Collective Storehouse
computer has got him down as deleted.

- Hang on.
- Information Retrieval's got him inoperative.

Security has got him down as excised.

- Administration's got him as completed.
- He's dead.

Dead?

Well, that's awful.

We'll never get rid
of the damn thing now.

What are we going to do, Sam?

Could try the next of kin.

There we go. "Buttle, Veronica, Mrs."

Veronica?

What's the number on the check?

27156789...

l074328K.

Right into memory.

Central Banking.

Veronica Buttle...

Mrs.

Deposit.

Thank God for that.

Would you like some tea?

There's a problem.

She doesn't have a bank account.

Well, that's it then.

I might just as well go
and hang myself now.

This could never have happened
before the stupid 7th tier reorganization.

That's Simmons' doing.

He and Jeffries always sit together at lunch.

Bastards!

Perhaps we could lose the thing
behind a filing cabinet or something...

- or burn it, eat it...
- Look. There is one solution.

- What?
- Drive out to Mrs. Buttle...

let her sign at the back of the check.
She can cash it at the corner sweet shop.

That's brilliant, Sam.

I'll even do it for you.

Here, authorize the check.
What's the address?

Everything's in here.

What shall I do next?

Pink and blue receipts.

Sign there, there and there.
And sign the check there.

I think I've broken a bone.

My wrist is all limp.
What a pathetic creature I am!

I'll do it for you.

Right. I'll be on my way.

Sam?

You are good to me, you know.

Here's looking at you, kid.
Here's looking at you.

Brazil

Where hearts were entertained in June

We stood beneath that amber moon

We interrupt this program
to bring you news of a terrorist bombing...

at the Blue Lagoon...

And clung together, then

Tomorrow was another day

The morning found me miles away

With still a million things to say

And now

when twilight beams the sky above

Hello. I wonder if you could tell me where...

Piss off!

Hello.

I'll never confess!

BOY 2: Come on,
you've got to interrogate me.

Mrs. Buttle?

Mrs. Buttle?

Are you Mrs. Buttle?

My name is Lowry.

Sam Lowry.

I'm from the Ministry of Information.

I've come to give you a check.

It's a refund, actually. There was a mistake.

Mistake?

Yes. Not my department, of course.
I'm only Records.

I'll tell you what it is. It seems Mr. Buttle
was overcharged by Information Retrieval.

They don't usually make mistakes...

but I suppose we're all human.

What happened to the...

Actually, my coming here
is rather unorthodox.

Bringing you this check. Any payments are
normally made through Central Computer...

but as there were certain...

difficulties, we thought,
rather than cause delay...

we'd let you have it now.

It being Christmas and all.

My husband's dead, isn't he?

I do assure you, Mrs. Buttle,
the Ministry is very scrupulous...

about following up
and eradicating any error.

But if you do have any complaints
you wish to make...

I'd be only too happy
to send you the appropriate forms.

What have you done with his body?

I don't know anything about that.
I'm really just...

delivering the check. So if...

Look, if you wouldn't mind
just signing these two receipts...

I'd be only too happy to leave you in peace.

He hadn't done anything.

He was good!

What have you done
with his body?

It isn't being very helpful, is it?

I didn't have to come here,
you know, Mrs. Buttle.

I'll kill you, you bastard!

Stop it!

Are you all right?

Are you all right?

Mrs. Buttle, are you all right?

It's you.

Wait, stop! Don't go!

Stop! I had nothing to do with it. Wait!

Stop!

YOUNG GIRL: He's coming back!

- Go away.
- Her name's Jill.

What?

Jill?

Jill who?

Jill who?

Layton.

Jill Layton.

You're a very good little girl.

- What are you doing here?
- Waiting for my daddy.

He will be pleased when he gets home.

Sam, I've just had
the transport pool onto me.

You don't know anything about a personnel
transporter gone missing, do you?

Personnel transporter?

What?

The pranets, I had a personal transporter.

I'll do the paperwork in the morning.

Is it all right about Mrs. Tuttle...

Buttle's check?

- Can I forget it?
- Yeah.

What a relief. I'm gonna have nightmares.

Damn! Blast!

What's the matter?

You don't happen to know
how to get round an IRQl3, do you?

All information
on third level suspects is classified.

All inquiries through Information Retrieval.
That's hopeless, they'll tell you nothing.

Come the time they want something
from us, yes.

There's one way I could get round it.

- I could accept my mother's promotion.
- Yes.

No!

You can't. You turned it down.

I didn't sign the form.

I did it for you.

- You didn't?
- I did.

You didn't!

I did.

- Why did you do that?
- That's what you wanted, isn't it?

I don't know.

I don't know what I want.

Come on, before they turn the lights out.

There is one way around it.

I could accept promotion
to Information Retrieval.

Sam.

What are you doing?

My God, what's going on?

Emergency procedures.

I haven't got an emergency.

This is an emergency.

Have a nice day.
This has not been a recording.

SPOOR: Here. Sign that.

What is it?

It's a 27Bl6. What do you think it is?
Where is he?

DOWSER: Spoor, come here. I found it.

Spoor, come here!

Look there, a bypass valve
on the transformer.

You've had that scab Tuttle here.

What are you talking about?

Who fixed your ducts?

I told you before, they fixed themselves.

Where did this come from,
out of your nostril?

Central Services.

They don't take kindly to sabotage.

This place is in a terrible state.

Just a minute. You're not gonna
leave it like this, are you?

Why not?

All you got to do is blow your nose
and it's fixed, isn't it?

MRS. BUTTLE:
What have you done with his body?

Mrs. Ida Lowry
requests the pleasure of your company

at her apartment tonight from 8:30

to midnight

To celebrate the completion

of her recent cosmetic

surgery

Thanks.

It's reply paid.

Is it?

Two, three.

Mother, I'm sorry
but I am unable to come to your party

You don't have to sing it.

I don't?

Aren't you a bit late?
The party started an hour ago.

Yes, it's backlog. Everybody complains.

Was it all right otherwise?

Mr. Helpmann,
I'm keen to get into Information Retrieval.

Mr. Helpmann,
I'm dying to get at this woman.

LIVERIED FLUNKY: Where's your invitation?

Don't shoot! Mother!

Sam, I'm so glad you came.

Come in.

Mother?

Oh, God, Mother, is that you?

Of course. Isn't it wonderful?

The bandages came off just this afternoon.

Come on, darling, join in the fun.

Simply everybody's here.

- Is Mr. Helpmann here? Stop shoving!
- He is.

Mr. Helpmann is here,
and he wants to talk to you.

Good. I want to talk to him.

MOTHER: He says you're the first person
ever to refuse a promotion.

- He thinks you should see a doctor.
- Actually, Mother, I've decided...

Louis, you know Sam.

Can you believe it?

It's just me and my little knife.

Snip.

Slice.

- Can you believe it?
- Congratulations.

- But this is just the beginning.
- Really?

Of course, yes.
You've seen her with her clothes off.

Faces are a doddle
compared to tits and ass.

- No hairlines.
- Really, Louis!

I've been looking for you everywhere.

Mother, I have to talk to Mr. Helpmann.

- You stupid sod.
- Dear boy...

what do you think of your mother now?

CHAPMAN: It will never last.

Excuse me.

Dr. Chapman, did you say something?

That technique, I've tried it.

A nice effect, but highly unstable.

In six months,
she'll look like Grandma Moses.

See here, Chapman.

At least mine don't end up looking
like they've been mugged.

What have you done with his body?

- What happened to you?
- There's a little complication.

Dr. Chapman says it often happens
with a delicate skin like mine.

Nothing to worry about.

He's promised these bandages
will be off in a jiffy.

- Actually, there's someone I want to meet.
- I know.

Here we are.

I'm going to leave you two lovebirds
in peace.

Hello, Shirley.

Come on.

Do you want a drink?

MOTHER: Chase those years away.

Listen, Shirley.

Look, your mother and my mother
have the idea that...

Look, I'm very flattered.

And, well, I just don't want you
to be under any false impressions.

It's all right.

I don't like you, either.

Sam!

Jack! Excuse me, Shirley.

I'm sorry.

- Do you remember Alison?
- Good evening.

Alison, Sam Lowry, an old friend.

Alison, yes, of course.

- You look different.
- I'm two years older.

And she's been to Dr. Jaffe.
She doesn't like me telling people.

But, in fact, she's really pleased.

- I knew there was something different.
- Remember how they used to stick out?

What?

Yes, well, rather.

- I always used to wonder if they were real.
- What, my ears?

- Dr. Jaffe pinned her ears back.
- Yes, that's...

I always wondered if she wore falsies.

Mr. Helpmann.

False ears.

- Hello, Jack.
- You remember my wife, Alison?

Of course, Barbara, isn't it? How are you?

Barbara's very well. How are you?

- Fine, thanks.
- Good.

Hello, Sam. Ida said you might be here.
Have you got a minute?

Would you excuse us?

Of course. Come on, Alison... Barbara.

Sam...

I need your help.

Thanks very much.

Mr. Helpmann, I'm glad to be of help.

And if I can help you...

Your father and I were very close.

Of course, Jeremiah was senior to me,
but we were close friends.

Especially after the bombing.

And now I keep his name alive
at the office every day.

It's as though he's there
still speaking to me.

"'Ere I am...

"J.H."

The ghost in the machine.

I know he would've wanted me to help you.

And I promised your mother...

that I'd take you onto the team
at Information Retrieval.

- But I gather that you...
- Well...

actually, Mr. Helpmann,
I've changed my mind.

I've decided I'd accept the transfer.

If I'm not too late.

Too late?

That's for me to say.

Well, then I am...

Welcome to Information Retrieval.

My name's Lowry.

Sam Lowry.

I've been told to report to Mr. Warrenn.

Thirtieth floor, sir.

You're expected.

- Don't you want to search me?
- No, sir.

- Want to see my ID?
- No need, sir.

- But I could be anybody.
- No, you couldn't, sir.

This is Information Retrieval.

The lift's arrived, sir.

WARRENN: Half as terrorists, rest as victims.

Definitely, no.

My name's Lowry, Mr. Warrenn.
Sam Lowry.

Yes. No. Cancel that. Okay.

Glad to have you on board.

Don't be ridiculous, Jenkins.

Yes.

You'll like it up here.

We've got a crack team of...
Are they kidding?...decision makers.

In triplicate. I'm expecting big things...
Two copies to Finance!...of you.

Between you and me, Lowry...

this department is about to be upgraded.

Here we are.

Your very own number
on your very own door.

And behind that door, your very own office.

Congratulations, DZl015.

Welcome to the team.

Yes. No. Cancel that.

Send two copies to Finance.