Blood Brothers
MAX: There's something I want to show you.
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MAX: I just thought we should do something, you know? Something normal, for once. Things have been so--
LIZ: Yeah, I know, insane.
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MARIA: You're avoiding me.
MICHAEL: I'm not avoiding you.
MARIA: Oh, the classic signs, Michael. Not looking me in the eye, lying about motives...
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MICHAEL: What the hell's going on?
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DOCTOR: What's your relationship?
LIZ: He's my friend.
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ALEX: Ok, I'm making a point here. The point here is, musicians get the ladies.
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LIZ: Alex, I need you to do me a huge favor.
ALEX: Of course. Anything.
LIZ: I need your blood.
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MICHAEL: I wanted to talk to you in private. I was wondering if you'd like to go out with me...on a date sometime.
SUSAN: You seem a bit young.
MICHAEL: Age doesn't matter to me. I mean, besides, you know, I've always been more mature than most people I know. I've always found it easier to relate to a woman. They have so much more in common. They understand. Girls my age, they just don't do it for me, you know? I can't relate to them. But a woman like you on the other hand...
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ALEX: What is it...drugs? Is that what this is? You and Max go out for a drive. He gets wasted, almost kills you both. That's what I'm covering for, isn't it?
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ALEX: You can't use Michael's blood because he's just as high. So who do you call? You call on your buddy Alex. Stupid, straight Alex who does everything you say cause he's such a loyal friend that you lie to and you use whenever you can.
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MICHAEL: Heard you saved Mr. Ed.
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MAX: Mom, this is Liz.
LIZ: It's nice to meet you.
MRS. EVANS: It's nice to meet you.
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KYLE: Oh, hey, look. A spy.
ALEX: No, I'm just eating.
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MAX: Act like I said something funny.
LIZ: Ha...ha...ha funny Max. Max? Are you sure this is going to work?
MAX: It's the only way to find out if he's following us.
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MICHAEL: We don't need your car.
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MARIA: Relax. God, you guys act like I've never tailed someone before.
ISABEL: Swell, he'll never notice us going backwards.
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MARIA: How long is this going to last, us waiting here like this.
MICHAEL: Why you got a date?
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ISABEL: You know, I'm the one who should be complaining, stuck out here with you two.
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LIZ: I guess these are the things you do when...when you feel a certain way about someone.
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MARIA: You don't trust me, that's it you don't trust me you give Isabel the real job because...
MICHAEL: Will you shut up, your gonna get us caught.
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MARIA: This is the second time you've dragged me to some cheap motel.
MICHAEL: Yeah, well, don't spread it around. You'll ruin my reputation.
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MARIA: That was Ms. Topolsky. Ms. Topolsky as in school Ms. Topolsky. All right. Either she's taking her job way too seriously, or she's not exactly a guidance counselor.
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ALEX: If I had a therapist, he'd say talking to you is detrimental to my mental health.
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JOCK: Tough game at dodge ball Whitman?
ALEX: Yeah, sure why not?
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MARIA: That's right. Ms. Topolsky. All-American guidance counselor and big, fat liar.
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MICHAEL: Never trust a blonde.
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MICHAEL: Stick a fork in us, Maxwell. We're done.
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ALEX: If their involved in drugs...It is drugs right?
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MAX:You okay?
ALEX:Not really.
MAX: I think we need to talk.
ALEX: About what?
MAX: What you did for me, in the hospital.
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ALEX: Yeah, well, you're here to threaten me now, right? I mean, you're here to scare me into shutting up about faking the whole blood sample thing. Well, you're too late, Max. She already knows.
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MAX: Alex, I'm trying to protect you.
ALEX: I didn't know so many people cared.
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LIZ: No, even now. What happened at that hospital with Max, that was like the most important thing I ever had to do in my life. And I called you. Alex, this is the hardest thing I have ever asked anyone to do. Look, I need you...I need you to believe in me, even though I can't...I can't tell you what you want to know.
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TOPOLSKY: I was here to help you. Let's just hope your friend Max doesn't get into the wrong hands with me not around.
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ALEX: What? Something that I won't go through with? Liz, I'm not kidding. All right? Now either you tell me the truth, or I walk.
LIZ: I'm sorry, it's not my secret to tell.
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