Fidel, that's his name. Women love him. They're crazy about him. He has a big schlong. Huge. Well, there you are. Scale again. Size. I don't know, maybe it's a masculine thing. They say women don't care. I'm sort of in the middle myself. How about you?...You see, women are in touch with different things. That's my opinion. I know it's not a fashionable opinion right now, but (he banged his fist on the table) I know what I see.

I see men running around, trying to put their dicks into everything, trying to make something happen. But it's women who are the source, the only power. Nature. Birth. Rebirth. Cliché. Cliché, sure, but true. (Alexandra: "Why are you telling me this?") Because you're an honest woman and I'm being honest with you. (he stood up) I like women. I admire them. But if you want me to treat you like a dumb twit, I will. But what's the point? You have brains, Alex, more than brains. And you don't even know it, do you? Well, most women do not. (Alexandra: "Are you married?") Good question! You see? Brains. The answer is no. I don't believe in it. Good for the man. Lousy for the woman. She dies. She suffocates. I've seen it. And then the husband runs around complaining to everyone that he's fucking a dead person. And he's the one who killed her. (laughter).

Where is your husband? (Alexandra: "Dead") Well, sorry, but you're one of the lucky ones. When a woman unloads a husband, or a husband unloads a woman, however it happens - death, desertion, divorce - the three D's - when that happens, a woman blooms. She blossoms. Like flowers. Like fruit. She is ripe. That's the woman for me. (He lit his cigar)

Would you like to see my house?...In case anybody ever needed any exercise, the uh, pool's right over there, past the piano, where the, uh, ballroom used to be. Interesting word - 'ballroom.'... And, uh, over there is, uh, my study. Ah, this is my bedroom...The Borgias once owned the bed. Of course, you have to pay for it with your soul, but, uh, what the hell, I deserve a little luxury. You have to take care of yourself. No one's gonna do that for you, are they, hmm? (he reclined on the bed) (Alexandra: "What is it that you think you're doing?") Being as direct with you as I know how. I thought you might appreciate it. And, uhm, anyway, I always like a little pussy after lunch. Whaddya say? (Alexandra: "Are you trying to seduce me?") I wouldn't dream of seducing you, Alexandra. I wouldn't insult your intelligence with anything as trivial as seduction. But, uh, I would love to fuck you.