AGENT JONES: Spill it, Spitzer.
SPITZER: You’ve got nothing on me. Quit wasting your time.
AGENT JONES: We know you did it. All of it.
SPITZER: I don’t know what you’re talking about.
AGENT JONES: We have the documents, Eliot. The phone calls. The paper trail. We found the Russian one. The Asian one. The Spanish one. We followed the money Eliot, and we found what you did.
SPITZER: You found the Spanish one?
AGENT JONES: We have all of it, Eliot. The game is up. Either we nail you now, or we chase you to the ends of the Earth. Either way, it’s time to pay the piper.
SPITZER: Heh. You’ve got evidence, then. Alright, what do you want?
AGENT JONES: Full confession.
SPITZER: Plea bargain?
AGENT JONES: Not a chance. Cooperate unconditionally, and maybe you don’t spend the rest of your life in prison. No promises.
SPITZER: Alright. (pause) I’m known around the world as “El Spizzaro.”
I’ve been funding and organizing terrorist acts around the world for decades. I don’t care one way for global politics or U.S. hegemony — I do it for the thrill. Biggest thrill in the world.
I’m responsible for the Madrid bombings. The Japanese sarin gas attacks. I’ve been foiled more times than I can count, but I’ve never been caught, until now.
But now you’ve got me, and I’ll face my execution with my chin high.
AGENT JONES: Eliot . . . we were talking about the prostitutes.
SPITZER: Yes, we’ve been shipping them all over the world. Kidnappings, human trafficking, you name it.
AGENT JONES: No, we mean — that you had sex with them.
SPITZER: What? Wait, what proof do you have?
AGENT JONES: . . . Kristin?
SPITZER: What? Who? Is that some sort of code?
AGENT JONES: We have payments showing that you had sex with a prostitute with the assumed name of Kristin at least twice.
SPITZER: Oh. So, that’s what you’ve got.
Okay. You got me. Looks like I’m resigning, then.
Now, if you gentlemen will excuse me, I have to buy a powder-blue dress for my wife.
AGENT JONES: Not so fast! With all you just said — you’re not leaving this room until you pay for all of it!
SPITZER: Oh. My friend. I know what you have, and what you don’t.
And you only get once chance at El Spizzaro!
AGENT JONES: And just like that . . .
he was gone.