JEFFREY: WHO CARES WHAT PSYCHIATRISTS WRITE ON WALLS? (moves to Fale, jabs him with a finger) You think I told her about the Army of the 12 Monkeys? Impossible! Know why, you pathetically ineffectual and pusillanimous “pretend-friend-to-animals”?! I’ll tell you why: because when I had anything to do with her six years ago, there was no such thing — I hadn’t even thought of it yet!
JEFFREY abruptly switches from rage to good humor, adopting a supercilious smile and a patronizing tone.
Here’s my theory on that. While I was institutionalized, my brain was studied exhaustively in the guise of mental health. I was interrogated, x-rayed, studied thoroughly. Then, everything about me was entered into a computer where they created a model of my mind.
They all stare, mesmerized, at the strutting JEFFREY. Is he serious? Is he crazy? Doesn’t matter — he’s charismatic.
Then, using the computer model, they generated every thought I could possibly have in the next, say ten years, which they then filtered through a probability matrix to determine everything I was going to do in that period. So you see, she knew I was going to lead the Army of the Twelve Monkeys into the pages of history before it ever even occurred to me. She knows everything I’m ever going to do before I know it myself. How about that? Now I have to get going — do my part. You guys check all this stuff out and load up the van. Make sure you have everything. I’m outta here.