Fight Club - “Raymond K. Hessel - The Vet“ Original Scene

Tyler: (holding a gun to a shop owner’s head) Give my your wallet. Raymond: (scared, gives him his wallet) Tyler: Raymond K. Hessel 1327 Southeast Banning, Apt. A. Small, cramped basement apartment, Raymond? Raymond: did you know? Tyler: ’Cause they give basement apartments letters instead of numbers. Raymond, you are going to die. Raymond: (whimpering and crying) Tyler: (looking at a picture) Is that your mom and dad? Cause Mom and Dad are gonna have to call kindly Dr. so-and-so to pick up your dental records. Do you want to know why? ’Cause there’s gonna be nothing left of your face. Raymond: (continues crying) Tyler: (continuing to look through his wallet) An expired community-college ID. What’d you study Raymond? Raymond: (stuttering) Tyler: Stuff? Were the midterms hard? Tyler: (hits him with his gun) I asked you what you study. Raymond: Biology, mostly. Tyler: Why? Raymond: I -- I don’t know. Tyler: What did you want to be, Raymond K. Hessel? Raymond: (continues whimpering) Tyler: (cocks gun) The question, Raymond, is what did you want to be? Raymond: Veterinarian! Veterinarian! Tyler: Animals. Raymond: Ya, animal ... Tyler: Ya, stuff, I got that. So that means you need to get more schooling. Raymond: much school. Tyler: Would you rather be dead? Raymond: (whimpering) No, no... Tyler: Would you rather die, here, on your knees, in the back of a convenience store? Raymond: No, please... no. Tyler: (puts away gun). I’m keeping your license. Gonna check in on you. I know where you live. If you’re not on your way to becoming a veterinarian in six weeks, you will be dead. Now, get up, run on home. Raymond: (gets up and starts running) Tyler: Run Forrest! Run! Jack: I feel ill. Tyler: Imagine how he feels. Jack: Oh, come on - this isn’t funny. That wasn’t funny! What was the point of that? Tyler: Tomorrow will be the best day of Raymond K. Hessel’s life. His breakfast will taste better than any meal you and I have ever tasted. Come on. (throws the gun to Jack) Jack: (inspects the gun, notices there are no bullets in it)