written by Bill Condon, from the musical written by Maurine Dallas Watkins, Bob Fosse, & Fred Ebb

(Roxie and Fred are having sex.)
Roxie: Say it again , Fred!
Fred: Oh , you're a star, kid... My little shootin' star.
(Fred finishes and pulls his pants back on, getting ready to go.)
Roxie: Oh , say it again , Fred ... Where's the fire, huh? Amos ain't home till midnight. Hey, I don't want you to feel like I'm nagging at you , but don't you think it's time I met your friend down at the Onyx? It's been a month since you told him about me. And I know 'cause that was the night Velma Kelly plugged her husband and her sister. You know they say that she found 'em in the kip together? Gosh , if I ever found Amos slipping it to somebody else... I'd throw him a great big going-away party.
Fred: It's getting late.
Roxie: I have been thinking a lot about my act. Whenever I get a good idea I write it in my diary. It occurred to me the other day that all the really, really knockout acts have something a little different going on. Like a signature bit. And I thought that my thing could be aloof, you know? Give 'em just enough to get 'em good and hungry, but always leave 'em wantin' more. Hey, once I get a name for myself, maybe we could open up a club of our own . You could run it, and I could be the headliner. What's the idea?
Fred: Wake up, kiddo. You ain't never gonna have an act.
Roxie: Says who?
Fred: Face it. You're a two-bit talent with skinny legs. I'm just a furniture salesman.
Roxie: Yeah , but you got connections. That guy at the club.
Fred: There is no guy.
Roxie: That night...
Fred: It was the first time I set foot in that joint. I was collecting on a bet from the trombone player.
Roxie: So you never told anyone about me?
Fred: Sugar, you were hot stuff. I would have said anything to get a piece of that.
Roxie: And now? Now?
Fred: We had some laughs. Let's just leave it at that.
Roxie: You can't do this to me.
(Roxie grabs him, Fred shoves her away.)
Fred: Would you get off? You touch me again , I'll put your lights out!
Roxie: Wait.
Fred: Your husband will be home soon . Wash yourself before hitting those sheets again.
Roxie: You're a liar, Fred.
Fred: Yeah , yeah , so what?
Roxie: You lied to me.
Fred: That's life, sweetheart. That's life.
Roxie: You son of a bitch! You son of a bitch ! You're a son of a bitch!
(Roxie shoots Fred, killing him.)

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