One Life to Live Best Lines Tuesday 6/28/11

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Provided By Wanda

Rex: You can have Gigi's heart, you son of a bitch, on one condition.

Clint: I knew it. If a con artist like you is gonna save my life, there had to be an angle. So, Balsom, let's get on with it. I'm running out of time. What's the condition?

Rex: You want to hear my angle, Dad? Well, here it is. Your opinion of me, which you made perfectly clear from the moment we first met, is that I'm a good-for-nothing gold digger.

Clint: You got that right.

Rex: You've done everything in your power to keep me from being part of the family. After all, I'm nothing but a con man, right? Just after my piece of the Buchanan pie. If I can't make a buck off you while you're still breathing, well, then, hell, maybe I'll make some of the fortune after you croak.

Clint: Is that your plan?

Rex: No, because you're gonna live... if you get Gigi's heart. So I guess your life right now is kind of in my hands. My grubby, gold-digging, con artist hands.

Clint: What do you want, Balsom? You want me to admit that I misjudged you? That you're really the family man, the upstanding family man that my brother thinks you are? Do you want me to admit that I was a terrible father because I denied you? Do you want an apology?

Rex: Not even close. You say I'm a gold digger? Fine. I'll be a gold digger. You can keep your apology. I want your money.

Clint: I should've known that this would come down to cold, hard cash, so let's get on with it. My checkbook's in the drawer over there.

Rex: No. That morphine must be making you fuzzy, Clint. Think of what you're asking me. You want me to hand over Gigi's heart. You're asking me to sacrifice the body of the person that I love most in the world to keep the person I hate the most alive. You think you could just write a check and that'd be the end of it? No. Sorry, old man. It's not that simple.

Clint: Enough with the games, Balsom. Just tell me what you want.

Rex: Simple. I want everything.

Clint: What the hell does that mean?

Rex: I want all of your money. Every cent, from your bank accounts down to your piggy bank. I want your controlling interest in Buchanan Enterprises. I want your stocks and bonds. I want your entire investment portfolio. I want your real estate holdings. Every cent you have. Oh, I want your house, I want your cars, I want your horse, your knick-knacks. I want the dust under your rugs. I want it all.

Clint: I thought the point of this transplant was to save my life, but you want to kill me.

Rex: Au contraire, Dad. No, no. I want you to live! I want you homeless and on the street. I want you broke and broken.

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