s so hard to tell these days.
I do see her
with Ferris Bueller quite a little bit.
Would you get me
Mr. Peterson's daytime number, please?
Surely.
[Phone ringing]
- Ed Rooney's office.
- This is George Peterson.
Please hold.
What do you know? It's Mr. Peterson.
You still want his daytime number?
- Ed Rooney.
- Ed. This is George Peterson.
How are you today, sir?
We've had a bit of bad luck
this morning, as you may have heard.
Yeah, I heard, and I'm all broken up.
- Boy, what a blow.
- Yeah. Yeah.
Well, it's been a tough morning, and...
we've got a lot of family business
to take care of. So...
if you wouldn't mind excusing Sloane,
I'd appreciate it.
Sure, I'd be happy to.
Yeah, you just produce a corpse, and...
I'll release Sloane.
I want to see this
dead grandmother, firsthand.
Ed?
It's all right, Grace.
It's Ferris Bueller, the little twerp.
I'm going to set the trap
and let him fall right into it.
Ed, I'm sorry, did you say
you wanted to see a body?
Yeah, that's right.
Just roll her old bones on over here,
and I'll dig up your daughter.
- You know, that's school policy.
- Oh?
[Phone ringing]
- Was this your mother?
- No, my wife's mother.
Ed Rooney's office.
Hi, this is Ferris Bueller,
can I speak to Mr. Rooney, please?
Thank you.
Hold.
Tell you what, dip-shit...
you don't like my policies
you can just come on down here, and...
smooch my big old white butt.
- Ed.
- Pucker up, buttercup. What?
Ferris Bueller's on line two.
[Dramatic instrumental music]
Hey, Mr. Rooney, how you doing?
Listen, I'm sorry to disturb you at work,
but I'm not feeling very well today...
and I was wondering if it might be
possible for my sister to bring home...
any assignments from my classes
that I might need.
Have a nice day.
Mr. Peterson?
[Mr. Peterson clearing throat]
I think I owe you an apology, sir.
- Well, I should say you do.
- I...
I, I, I...
Well, I think you should be sorry,
for Christ's sake.
A family member dies...
and you insult me. What the hell
is the matter with you anyway?
Well...
I really don't know, sir.
I mean, I didn't think
I was talking to you.
I thought I was talking
to somebody else.
You know, sir, that I would never
deliberately insult you like that. I...
I can't begin to tell you
how embarrassed I am.
- What?
- Pardon my French...
but you're an asshole.
- What do you want?
- Asshole.
Absolutely right, sir.
You've hit the nail right on the head.
Find out where she is.
This isn't over yet, buster.
Do you read me?
Loud and clear, Mr. Peterson.
Call me "sir," goddamn it!
- Yes, sir, yes, sir.
- That's better.
And you just mind
your p's and q's, buster.
And remember who you're dealing with.
Bueller, Ferris Bueller.
Now, I'm a little scared 'cause
what if he recognises my voice?
- Impossible. You're doing great.
- Yeah?
She's in... Wait.
Rooney!
[Groaning]
Rooney, calm down!
Just a moment.
Ed! Get in here!
Just a little office difficulty, sir.
Rooney, I don't have all day
to bark at you.
So I'm going to make this
short and sweet.
It's great. Perfect. I love it.
I want my daughter out in front of the
school in 10 minutes by herself.
I don't want anybody... What?
It's too suspicious.
He'll think something's up.
- Cover it.
- You.
- Talk.
- You.
- Talk.
- Come on.
Talk. No.
Rooney! Rooney.
Yes, yes.
Listen here, pay attention.
I changed my mind.
I want you out
in front of the school with her.
I'd like to have a few words with you,
by God.
On second thought,
we don't have time to talk right now.
We'll get together soon
and we'll have lunch.
What the hell is wrong with you?
Wait.
- Where's your brain?
- Why'd you kick me?
- Where's your brain?
- Why'd you kick me?
- Where's your brain?
- I asked you first.
How can we pick up Sloane
if Rooney is there with her?
I said for her to be there alone
and you freaked.
Now, I didn't... I didn't hit you.
I lightly slapped you.
You hit