Informatika pro WZŠD/WZSD9S06

People always ask me if I know Tyler Durden.

Three minutes.

This is it. Ground zero.

Do you have a speech for the occasion?

With a gun barrel between your teeth, you speak only in vowels.

I can't think of anything.

For a second, I forget about Tyler's controlled demolition thing

and I wonder how clean that gun is.

It's getting exciting now.

That old thing, how you always hurt the one you love.

Well, it works both ways.

We have front-row seats for this theatre of mass destruction.

The Demolitions Committee of Project Mayhem

wrapped the foundations of buildings with explosives.

In two minutes, primary charges will blow base charges

and a few blocks will be reduced to smouldering rubble.

I know this because Tyler knows this.

Two and a half. Think of everything we've accomplished.

Suddenly I realise that all of this, the gun, the bombs, the revolution,

has got something to do with a girl named Marla Singer.

Bob. Bob had bitch tits.

This was a support group for men with testicular cancer.

The big moosie slobbering all over me, that was Bob.

We're still men.

Yes, we're men.

Men is what we are.

bejt real je vzacny