Michael Keaton Monologues

Now, I know what you're thinkin'. How the heck does a 52-year-old, over-the-hill milkshake-machine salesman... build a fast-food empire with 16,000 restaurants, in 50 states, in 5 foreign countries... with an annual revenue of in the neighborhood of $700,000,000.00... One word... PERSISTENCE. Nothing in this world can take the place of good old persistence. Talent won't. Nothing's more common than unsuccessful men with talent. Genius won't. Unrecognized genius is practically a cliche. Education won't. Why the world is full of educated fools. Persistence and determination alone are all powerful.

It's not just the system, Dick. It's the name. That glorious name, McDonald's. It could be, anything you want it to be… it's limitless, it's wide open… it sounds, uh… it sounds like… it sounds like America. That's compared to Kroc. What a crock. What a load of crock. Would you eat at a place named Kroc's? Kroc's has that blunt, Slavic sound. Kroc's. But McDonald's, oh boy. That's a beauty. A guy named McDonald? He's never gonna get pushed around in life.

I remember the first time I saw that name stretched across your stand out there. It was love at first sight. I knew right then and there… I had to have it. And now I do.

If I saw a competitor drowning, I'd shove a hose down his throat.

You know what - contracts are like hearts, they are made to be broken.

I know what you're thinkin'... What the heck do I need a 5-spindle for... when I barely sell enough milkshakes to justify my single-spindle. Right? Wrong. Are you familiar with the notion of the chicken or the egg? Mr. Griffith, I mentioned... that there'd be costs. Well, I think it applies here. Do you not need the multimixer because, well heck, you're not selling enough milkshakes. Or are you not selling enough milkshakes because you don't have a multimixer? I firmly believe it's the latter. Because your customer comes in here and he knows if he orders a shake from your establishment... that well, he's in for a terrific wait. He's done it before and he thinks to himself, well, by golly, I'm not gonna make that mistake again. But if ya had the Prince Castle, 5-spindle, multimixer... with patented direct-drive electric motor we'd greatly increase your ability to produce... delicious, frosty milkshakes, FAST. Mark my words. Dollars to donuts, you'll be sellin' more of those sons-of-bitches... than you can shake a stick at. You increase the supply, and the demand will follow... Increase supply, demand follows. Chicken, egg. Do you follow my logic? I know you do because you're a bright, forward thinking guy who... knows a good idea when he hears one. So... What do you say?

McDonald's... is... family. Isn't that great? You know what I see when I see that? Family. We're one big family. Aren't we? We have mouths to feed. That's a family.

While you two boys were content to sit back and become a couple of also-rans... I wanna take the future. I wanna win. And you don't get there by being some "aw shucks" guy sap. There's no place in business for people like that. Business is war. It's dog eat dog, rat eat rat. If my competitor were drowning, I'd walk over and put a hose right in his mouth. Can you say the same?

And you'd probably win. But you can't afford to sue me. I'd bury you in court costs alone. Mac, I'm the president and C.E.O. of a major corporation with land holdings in 17 states… You run a burger stand in the desert. I'm national. You're fucking local.

Let me explain something to you, Dick… You boys have full say over what goes on inside the restaurants. But outside, above, below… your authority stops at the door. And at the floor. All right?

I'm looking for a few good men... and women. Who aren't afraid of hard work. Aren't afraid to roll up their sleeves. I'm looking for scrappers, hustlers, guys that are willing to roll up their sleeves. They're livin' on drive, they got a little fire in their belly. I stand right here before you today, I'm gonna offer you something as precious as gold. And you know what that is? Anybody? Anybody? Opportunity. It's opportunity. Opportunity. Opportunity to advance, to move forward, to move up, to advance... To succeed. To win. To step up. The sky's the limit. The sky is the limit. Grab the brass ring. To give yourself a shot at the American dream. Put your arms around the American dream. Opportunity. 'Cause I'll tell ya somethin'... At McDonald's? It's like this great nation of ours... Some of that elbow grease. I guarantee ya, if you got the guts... the gumption, the desire... I guarantee ya you can succeed. There's gold to be had. At the end of... those Golden Arches... Golden Arches. Golden Arches. Now who's with me? Who wants to jump on that ladder to success? Be part of the McDonald's "mishpokhe". Now who's with me? Come on, lemme see some hands.

A couple of Illinois boys. Made good. Only in America. Only in America. Only in America!

We've got two stories here: a story about degenerate clergy, and a story about a bunch of lawyers turning child abuse into a cottage industry. Which story do you want us to write? Because we're writing one of them.

Mmm. I ran track. You know, I went to Providence yesterday to talk to one of Father Talbot's victims. He played hockey here. And he's one of the better ones. He's got a wife, kids, good job. About ten minutes into the conversation, the guy breaks down. You know, couldn't stop crying. Said he could never figure out why Father Talbot picked him. Father Talbot coached the hockey team. So… I gues we just got lucky. You and me.

Wow. You know... What has to happen in a person's life to become a critic anyway? What are you writing, another review? Huh? Is that any good? Is it? Is it bad? Did you even see this? Let me read it.

No, you won't call the police... let's read your fuckin' review. "Callow." Callow is a *label*. It's just... "Lackluster." That's just a labels. Margin... marginalia. Are you kidding me? Sounds like you need penicillin to clear that up. That's a label too. These are all just labels. You just label everything. That's so fuckin' lazy... You just... You're a lazy fucker. You're a lazy... You know what this is? You even know what that is? You don't, You know why? Because you can't see this thing if you don't have to label it. You mistake all those little noises in your head for true knowledge.

No, I'm not finished! There's nothing here about technique! There's nothing in here about structure! There's nothing in here about intentions! It's just a bunch of crappy opinions, backed up by even crappier comparisons... You write a couple of paragraphs and you know what? None of this cost you fuckin' anything! The Fuck! You risk nothing! Nothing! Nothing! Nothing! I'm a fucking actor!

This play cost me everything... So I tell you what, you take this fucking malicious, cowardly, shittyly written review and you shove that right the *fuck* up your wrinkly tight ass.

The last time I flew here from LA, George Clooney was sitting two seats in front of me. With those cuff links, and that… ridiculous chin. We ended up flying through this really bad storm. The plane started to rattle and shake, and everyone on board was crying, and praying. And I just sat there. Sat there thinking that when Sam opened that paper it was going to be Clooney's face on the front page. Not mine. Did you know that Farrah Fawcett died on the same day as Michael Jackson?

Yeah, yeah. Yeah, well, I mean, previews were pretty much a train-wreck. We can't seem to get through without a raging fire or a raging hard-on. I'm broke. I'm not sleeping like, you know, at all. And um, this play is kinda starting to feel like a major deformed version of myself that just keeps following me around, hitting me in the balls with a tiny little hammer. I'm sorry, what was the question?