So, I work for Esquire magazine, and a couple of years ago,

No matter how much I think about it, this is the only thing I want.

Business is business.

Business is business!

Let's get to work!

You haven't slept at all?

Come into town and get yourself a little room.

At least I do something.

Three nights.

The act.

Let's cut the bullshit.

What do you do for a living?

Have I seen your work?

So, uh, what kind of business are you in, Max?

..my work.

So, you work with him regularly?

Respect my work.

I got a job.

Have you got through with your work?

Oh, work.

Business

And what started to matter less?

What are you doing?

A job?

A job? Yes.

Were you working?

Let me guess. Crime scene?

Job...

Yeah! I could use a job!

Can't I get a job instead?

Resume your work.

I wanna see about a job there.

I need a job.

Get to work.

Ah, sir...

Just what you want in an executive.

Buenos Aires.

We need to cook.

So I want to talk a little bit about labor and motivation.

It's not guilt.

This actually became my creative obsession.

But how would you specialize?

Well, what he meant it is that he she should not go alone down the street at these hours.

Yes.

I'm talking about you, Mr. Walker.