Whiplash - Confrontation Over Musical Performance Quality
Fletcher: [walks over to Metz]
Tell me it's not you, Elmer Fudd. It's okay. Play.
Fletcher:
Do you think you're out of tune?
Fletcher:
What are you... there's no fucking Mars Bar down there, what are you looking at? Look up here, look at me. Do you think you're out of tune?
Metz: [after a long, hesitant pause]
Yes.
Fletcher: [yelling; calmer tone]
THEN WHY THE FUCK DIDN'T YOU SAY SO?! I've carried your fat ass for too long, Metz. I'm not gonna have you cost us a competition because your mind's on a fucking Happy Meal instead of on pitch. Jackson, congratulations. You're fourth chair. Metz, why are you still sitting there? Get the fuck out!
Fletcher: [to the band]
For the record, Metz wasn't out of tune. You were, Erickson, but he didn't know and that's bad enough. Alright take 10, when we get back the squeaker's on.
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