Natz: I’d like to have Smart to myself for one hour. I’d like to have him in my hands almost as much as I want Dr. Shotwire.
Dr. Ratton: You shall have them both... within twenty four hours.
Dr. Ratton: Can you deliver Shotwire and Smart here, alive?
Hymie: Yes, sir.
Mr. Natz: You mean to tell me that this guy can succeed where a dozen well-trained KAOS men have failed?!?
Dr. Ratton: Watch...
(Dr. Ratton shoots Hymie three times.)
Dr. Ratton: Instant analysis, please.
Hymie: I was struck by three .45 bullets, lead ore composite weighing approximately 220 grains apiece, traveling at almost muzzle velocity of 800 feet per second. Impact, 456 foot-pounds per square inch.
Mr. Natz: Who is he?
Dr. Ratton: Not he, Mr. Natz. It.
The Chief: He says you’ve set back his work six months!
Max: Six months! That’s ridiculous!! Three months. Four months, tops...
Dr. Ratton: He’s now memorized all the information about Dr. Shotwire’s career. He has an IQ of over 200.
Mr. Natz: Perfect! A genius killer! What do you call him?
Dr. Ratton: Hymie.
Mr. Natz: Hymie?!?
Dr. Ratton: I made him, I call him what I want!
Mr. Natz: Hymie?!?
Dr. Ratton: My father’s name was Hymie!
Dr. Ratton: He has the dexterity to take apart and reassemble the entire wiring system of any missile in the world! There’s only one thing he isn’t able to do.
Mr. Natz: What’s that?
Dr. Ratton: Set up a lawn chair.
Dr. Ratton: Hymie, take off.
(Hymie begins to flap his arms.)
Dr. Ratton: No, Hymie! (to Mr. Natz) You have to be very careful what you say to him. He sometimes takes things literally.
(Max cannot open a door.)
Max: Hymie, give me a hand.
(Behind Max, Hymie begins to unscrew his right hand. Then Max gets the door open.)
Max: Never mind, Hymie.
(Behind Max, Hymie screws his hand back onto his arm.)
Max: But that’s the wrong counter-counter sign for my counter-sign.
Agent 44: Is not! Here, I’ll show you. (He pulls out a tiny book and thumbs it open.) There you are! Middle of page 18.
Max: That’s the old book! (Max shows Agent 44 a different book.)
Agent 44: I... I’m sorry, 86... I should have known you were right... (His voice breaks; he’s on the verge of crying.) It’s just... just that I’ve been cooped up in so many clocks and lockers and glove compartments for so long... nobody tells me anything! It isn’t fair! I’m a good agent!! I haven’t been able to wear my tuxedo once! Not once! And who’d see it in a clock?
Max: Don’t get so emotional, 44! Here. You can have my book.
Max: Agent 44 is in the clock in the next room. Ask him if he knows anything... Well, hop to it, Hymie!
(Hymie leaves for the next room, hopping every few steps.)
Max: We’ve got to remain inconspicuous. Just watch me and do exactly as I do.
(Hymie begins precisely imitating Max’s every motion. In a minute, everyone in the room is watching the pair...)
Max: I think we’ve been noticed, Hymie...
Max: Now, I’ll leave and you follow right behind me. And don’t forget to kill the light.
(Max leaves. After he does, Hymie draws a silenced revolver from his coat and shoots the light bulb.)
Max: I’ve got to get Shotwire out of here without getting him too upset, and without anybody else noticing it. It has to be handled with tremendous subtlety.
(Max walks over to speak with the doctor.)
Max: Excuse me, Dr. Shotwire, but I wonder if you’d mind stepping outside with me for a minute.
Dr. Shotwire: YES, I WOULD MIND!! YOU KNOW HOW I FEEL ABOUT YOU SECRET AGENTS!!
Max: How did you get him to leave?
Hymie: I appealed to his scientific curiosity. I told him I was a robot.
Max: How in the world did you ever get him to believe that story?
Hymie: I showed him my works.
(Hymie unbuttons his coat and unzips his shirt, revealing his inner mechanism.)
99: Hymie! That’s incredible! You’re really prepared for everything!
Max: That’s fantastic, Hymie. You should get a medal for this. You knock me out!
(Hymie punches Max, knocking him out.)
Dr. Ratton: Hymie! Destroy Smart!
(Hymie approaches Max, draws a gun, and hesitates.)
Dr. Ratton: I said destroy him!!
Max: It’s all right, Hymie, I understand. You’re not responsible for what you’re doing... it’s not your fault. I know that under that metal body of yours there beats the mechanical heart of a really nice guy.
99: Hymie, you’re crying.
Max: Take it easy, Hymie. You’ll rust your eyeball!
Hymie: I’d like to work for IBM.
The Chief: Oh, because of your scientific curiosity.
Hymie: No, it’s a nice way to meet some intelligent machines.