Grant Show: Max

No Good Deed

Max

Max: Uh-oh. Someone's got the thousand-yard stare. What is it?
Michael Westen: Did you ever read the report I submitted? I know it was long, but we're talking abour four years of...
Max: *Again* with the people that burned you? Michael, you were there. We broke them to pieces. We ground them into dust. It's over. You won.
Michael Westen: I guess. But I flagged some inconsistencies the agency should look into.
Max: Westen...
Michael Westen: Questions that never got answered.
Max: Relax... You keep playing The Boy Who Cried, "Shouldn't we triple-check this?" people are gonna start thinking that you're a nut. Because you sound like a nut.

Michael Westen: Hey! Where the hell do you think you're goin' you weasel-faced son of a bitch!
Male Thief: Are you talking to me?
Michael Westen: I know what you're doing, and I really don't appreciate it!
Male Thief: Excuse me, but I...
Michael Westen: You have been driving up the prices on me all day! You made me lose the Diamond Creek Cabernet! It's because of you. Because...
Max: Easy, easy.
Michael Westen: No, no, James!
Max: It's not worth it.
Michael Westen: This is between me and my new pal, weasel-face.
Male Thief: You're drunk, and you're confused.
Michael Westen: Am I? Am I! Well, let's just see. Let me see your paddle.
Michael Westen: [narrative] Pretending to be a belligerant drunk let's you get close to a target long enough to plant a tracker without them getting suspicious.
Male Thief: Get the hell off of me!
Michael Westen: [narrative] Of course, if you plan on making a scene at a fancy hotel, you'd better be ready to pay the price.

Michael Westen: [narrative] Intelligence-agency field offices have to find a delicate balance between blending in and providing adequate security...
Max: Come on, Westen. I got a tee time I'm trying to make.
[Max uses a key card to let he and Michael go through a door marked "FDA" / "Food & Drug Administration"]
Michael Westen: ...which is why, whenever possible, they piggyback onto the facilities of fellow government agencies.
Max: [holds up, then hands the key card to Michael] This... belongs to you now. Bosses cleared you for a temporary key card. Keep up the good work, and maybe you'll get a real one.

[Michael turns a corner to find Max face down on the carpet]
Michael Westen: Max!
[Michael rushes to his side]
Michael Westen: Max!
[Michael turns Max over, revealing a pool of his blood on the floor]
Michael Westen: What happened? What happened? Who did this to you? Who did this to you?
Max: [groans, sees his bloody shirt] Oh, my... m-my w-wife's gonna be pissed. You say goodbye for me.
Michael Westen: No. Stay with me, Max. No, no, no. Max. Max!