Shelley: "Look at the sheets. Look at the sheets. 1987, '88, '89-- six months in '89-- who's on top?"
Shelley: "Under him?"
Shelley: "Oh, bullbleep-- bullbleep, John! April to september it's me. It's no bleeping Moss. Due respect, he's an order-taker. Oh, talk-- Ooh, talks a good game, but look on the board, it's me."
John: "Not lately it isn't."
Shelley: "Not latel-- Well, lately-- kiss my ass, lately. Look, you call Murray and you call Mitch-- when we were on Peterson, who do you think bought the new car, huh? Call Mitch. The Seville? Oh, he came in here-- 'You bought that for me, fella.' And out of what? Hey, look at me! Out of what? Nothing! Cold calling. You want to talk abuot a sale? You are really beginning to burn my ass, kid. I can't get a lead, you-- It was skill, John. It could be working for you, you want to throw it away."
John: "It isn't me."
Shelley: "Oh, it's not you? Gee, I wonder who it is? Who the bleep am I talking to? Now look, I need the leads to sell--"
John: "After the contest. After the 30th."
Shelley: "Bullbleep, 'After the contest.' If I'm not up on that board by the 30th, they're going to can my ass."