“The sickness is deep,” says Kit.
“They playin’ you!” says Freddy.
“I’ve been played!” says Kit.
“That’s really not the case here,” explains Hal the Agent. “This is a great script. Look, it’s not Shakespeare, but…”
“Hey, what’d you just say?” asks Kit.
“I said, it’s not Shakespeare, but…” begins Hal.
“It’s not Shake… It’s not Shake…” says Kit, ” Did you hear…did you hear what he’s doin’?” he asks Freddy
“Yeah,” says Freddy, not really understanding. “I know he’s doin’ something. I just can’t put my finger on it. Yeah. What’s he doin’?”
“Shakespeare, Freddy, Shakespeare!” says Kit.
“Shakespeare,” repeats Freddy.
“Shake-a-spear. Spear-chucker!” says Kit. “Shake-a-spear! I’m a spear-chucker now!”
“Kit!” exclaims Hal the Agent.
” Come into my house and call me a spear-chucker, huh?” asks Kit, reaching into his desk drawer. He pulls out a pistol.
“Kit, that’s not what it means!” says the agent.
“It’s my imagination, huh?” asks Kit, “It’s all my imagination. Oh, I suppose they didn’t put a computer
chip in LaToya Jackson’s brain. She just acts like that, huh? I suppose Teddy Kennedy ain’t one-sixteenth black, huh?”
“Teddy Kennedy?” asks the agent.
“He’s not like other Kennedys!” yells Kit. “Look at him! He’s different!”
“Listen, I…I got some calls to make,” says the agent, getting up from his chair and backing away.
“Yeah, go make some calls,” says Kit, walking next to a drum set. “Go call Arnold and Sly! And Van Damme and Jackie Chan! Tell ’em the spear-chucker said hello!” He fires several shots at the drum set’s cymbals.
Meanwhile, Bowfinger pulls up to the entrance of Kit’s estate in his borrowed Mercedes. Gunfire and squealing tires are heard in the distance.