GOLDEN: Mister Stamper... Dan Golden, I'm Director of --
HARRY: I know who you are. I watched T.V. once. Apollo 8, right? First manned lunar orbit.
GOLDEN: That was a long time ago. I run this place now. And we've got a serious problem on our hands that Quincy here thinks you might be able to help us out with --
QUINCY: I'm a big fan, Mr. Stamper.
HARRY: I kinda caught that. What's the problem, gentlemen?
GOLDEN: I wonder if we might speak alone?
HARRY: These two are my right and left arms. Grace Stamper and Albert Jack Frost. Stupid name, so we call him A.J... They run my company. You talk to me, you talk to them.
QUINCY: 1985. The first well drilled over 50 thousand feet. They said it couldn't be done. You did it. Incredible.
QUINCY: 1991. Directional drilling through two miles of anthracite. They also said that couldn't be done. You did it. Incredible.
QUINCY: 1993. The first hole over seventy thousand. Once again they said --
GOLDEN: Move it along, Quincy.
QUINCY: Right, sorry. Mister Stamper, you're the world's foremost expert in deep drilling. You hold specialized patents in high speed bits, drilling fluids, downhole motors Can I call you Harry?
HARRY: Stick with Stamper.
GOLDEN: Well, Mister Stamper, we need you to drill a hole. It's in a difficult place.
HARRY: I've drilled in them all.
GOLDEN: Not... this place. This is really out there. Space, Mister Stamper.
HARRY: As in... outer?
GOLDEN: We're manning a mission to that asteroid to plant a nuclear device in it's core. To do that we need to drill an eight hundred foot hole.
HARRY: A.J., is this guy shitting me?
A.J.: I don't think they shit people at N.A.S.A.
HARRY: I left school after tenth grade. I earned my PH.D every day offshore drilling holes. You can't get it in a book. Drilling holes is about instinct - about smellin' it. Drillin' holes is an art. You want the crux of the matter? You stole my patent, and you don't have a goddamn idea how to use it. As for this piece of crap, don't insult me. I'll rebuild it - the right way - and drill the hole for you.
HARRY: First of all, you're going to buy my patent.
TEMPLE: Of course, completely in order. What is the price?
HARRY: Fifty million dollars.
TEMPLE: Mr. Stamper, this mission is to preserve the future of...
HARRY: You're right, too low. I'm still pissed. Seventy million.
HARRY: Give that money to my Greenpeace buddies. Told you... complicated.
HARRY: And I never want to pay taxes again.
TEMPLE: I'll call the I.R.S., try to uhm, explain the situation.
HARRY: I have this great log cabin in Montana. It's kind of a nature... getaway... thing.
TEMPLE: You want us to buy that, too?
HARRY: No. I fly fish there. But the fly fishing's sucked ever since they put in that goddamn hydro-electric dam. I want it gone by the time I get back.
HARRY: Now about my crew.
GOLDEN: The deal was for you, not others.
HARRY: I'm only as good as the men I work with. The ones in those home movies of yours.
GOLDEN: It's out of the question. Okay, who?
HARRY:My chief tool pusher. You game A.J.?
A.J.: Wouldn't miss it, Harry.
HARRY: And my roughnecks, Roustabouts, and Rockhound?
TEMPLE: Rock what? Is that a dog?
HARRY: No. Just a meek, geek geophysicist.
GOLDEN: What kind of men are these?
MAX: You're not taking any more blood. You vampires already have enough to feed your coven for a year.
NURSE: We need to know what substances you've recently ingested.
TITO: What, uhh, "substances" you talkin' about?
CHICK: An Ena-WHAT?
CHICK: And you want to stick it where? No way, lady. I came here to drill.
HELGA: So did I.