*Bateman takes out his watch and lays it on the table.*

PRICE (suddenly enthused): What’s that, a Seiko 5?

BATEMAN: New Rolex Datejust. What do you think?

*McDermott lifts it up and examines the dial carefully.*

McDERMOTT: Whoa. Very nice. Take a look.

*He hands it to Van Patten.*

BATEMAN: Picked it up from the AD yesterday, didn’t need to provide any specific services.

VAN PATTEN: Good coloring.

BATEMAN: That’s a tapestry dial. And the Roman Numerals is something called Emperor Elagabalus.

McDERMOTT (envious): Emperor Elagabalus?

VAN PATTEN: It is very cool, Bateman. But that’s nothing.

*He pulls the watch out of his wrist and slaps it on the table*

VAN PATTEN: Look at this.

*They all lean forward to inspect it.*

PRICE: That’s really nice.

*Bateman clenches his fists beneath the table, trying to control his anxiety.*

VAN PATTEN:  Patek Philippes Nautilus with an enamel dial, a moonphase and Emperor Caligula Numerals

(Turning to Bateman)

What do you think?

BATEMAN (barely able to breathe, his voice a croak): Nice.

PRICE (holding the watch up to the light to see it dance on the dial): Jesus. This is really super. How’d a nitwit like you get so tasteful?

*BATEMAN stares at his own shitter, reminiscing of all the cuckoldry he endured to get it, and then enviously at McDermott’s.*

BATEMAN (Voice-over): I can’t believe that Price prefers McDermott’s watch to mine.

PRICE: But wait. You ain’t seen nothin’ yet.

*He holds up his own timepiece.*

PRICE: Audemars Piguet Royal Oak, raised Emperor Vespasian Numerals, pale nimbus guillochet dial, and a tourbillon of course

BATEMAN (choking with anxiety as he stares at the marvellous feat of Swiss Engineering that is the tourbillon): Impressive. Very nice. Let’s see Paul Owen’s shi… I mean watch.

*Price pulls his watch from an inside coat pocket and holds it up for their inspection.:*

OWEN: Ever heard of Grand Seiko? Japanese call this Zaratsu polishing. That dials is fashioned after the snows of Mount Fuji Yama, and of course it features Emperor Trajan Numerals

*Bateman swallows, speechless. The sound in the room dies down and all we hear is a faint heartbeat as Bateman stares at the magnificent watch, the Zaratsu shining like a pearl in an ocean of stars.*

BATEMAN (V.O.): Look at that subtle off-white coloring. The tasteful thickness of it. Oh my God, it even has a smooth seconds hand…

*His hand shaking, Bateman lifts up the timepiece and stares at it until it fills the screen. He lets it fall. The superior Japanese technology shatters the table upon impact. The sound returns to normal.*

CARRUTHERS: Is something wrong? Patrick…you’re sweating.

*Bateman stares into the void, squeezing his Datejust as he attempts to digest the humiliation*

BATEMAN:  the Datejust has all the characteristics of a watch: dial, hands, mechanical movement but not a single, clear, identifiable emotion, except for Rolex’s greed and disgust for their customers. Something horrible is happening inside of me as I realise that I got humiliated by a Seiko. My nightly bloodlust is overflowing into my days. I feel lethal, on the verge of frenzy. I think my mask of sanity is about to slip as I fantasise about castrating my AD.

OWEN: Bateman what the fuck are you talking about?