Harry: Every expert in the country's gonna be dyin' to know how you figured all this out.
Dick: You think?
Harry: Oh, and the fame. I can't wait to see Barbara Walters make you cry.
Dick: Barbara Walters?
Harry: Yep. Grillin' you about your childhood on national television.
Dick: [stammers] But I- I never had a childhood.
Harry: Oh, you don't have to tell me. A boy grows up awful fast on the mean streets of, uh... Where are you from again?
Dick: Outer space! [throws manuscript in the trash] What was I thinking?! If I publish all the secrets of the universe, we might just as well walk into the Pentagon and yell out, "We're aliens!"
Harry: Oh, yeah. That would be quite a predicament. [shouts] You idiot!