Lana: (to the guard)Lana Winters from the Gazette. I'm doing a story on your bakery, and I have an appointment with Sister Jude.
(Garden, a mentally and physically handicapped woman approaches Lana with a rose.)
Pepper: Play with me! Play with me!
(Lana pricked her finger with a thorn.)
Lana: Ow!
Sister Mary Eunice : Pepper, leave the lady alone.
Lana: Oh, it's fine. She was only trying to make friends. It was harmless.
Sister Mary Eunice : She's not harmless. She drowned her sister's baby and sliced his ears off. Follow me, miss.
(Sister Mary Eunice leads Lana inside the asylum.)
Patient : No! No! I don't want to go to bed!
Sister Mary Eunice : Sister Jude calls this her "stairway to heaven."
Patient : Leave me alone!
Sister Mary Eunice : A lady reporter...!
(Sister Judes’s office. Sister Jude is shaving Shelley's head.)
Sister Jude : Told you I would come find you, Sister Mary Eunice. Brush yourself off, Shelley.
Shelley : Do you think I'm full of shame and regret for what I've done now, Sister? You could shave me bald as a cue ball, and I'll still be the hottest tamale in this joint.
Sister Jude : (to Sister Mary Eunice) Take her to the common room so the others can witness her newfound immaculacy. And next time, knock. (to Lana) Remind me of your name.
Lana: Lana. Lana Winters. Can I ask what Shelley did? I assume you were punishing her for something.
Sister Jude : I assumed you were here to do a story on our bakery.
Lana: Oh, believe me, no one loves that molasses bread more than I do. I toast it for my breakfast every single morning.
Sister Jude : Shelley was brought to us having been given the preposterous diagnosis by a psychiatrist comparing her to a wood nymph.
Lana: You mean a nymphomaniac?
Sister Jude : Just more nonsense from the charlatans. That young woman is a victim of her own lust. There's no other name for it. Mental illness is the fashionable explanation for sin. You said your name's Lana? After the movie star? Now there's a train wreck of a soul. Jennifer Jones, however, there's a true lady. You've seen Song of Bernadette?
Lana: Oh, it's a classic.
Sister Jude : Yeah.
Lana: But at Briarcliff, I hear you're the true star.
Sister Jude : Oh, no, not me. The monsignor, Timothy Howard. He's the real visionary. Sit down. You make me nervous. You know what this place was just two years ago? A hellhole!
Lana: And I'm told the bakery was your idea.
Sister Jude : It was, but it was based on his philosophy. Well, write it down. He believes the tonic for a diseased mind lies in the three "P"s: productivity, prayer, and purification. The bakery's just the tip of the iceberg. Oh, we have such dreams for this place.
Lana: Are all your patients remanded here by the state?
Sister Jude : Not all. The monsignor's a man of charity. You know where most of our wards come from? The ghetto.
(Sister Mary Eunice enters.)
Sister Mary Eunice : They said to tell you that the... Oh, I didn't knock. I'm sorry, Sister.
Sister Jude : You were sent to tell me what?
Sister Mary Eunice : Sent to tell you...
Sister Jude : What?
Sister Mary Eunice : (whispering)The bad person will arrive any minute.
Sister Jude : Thank you, Sister. Well, are we ready for our bakery tour?
Lana: She's talking about the maniac, the killer of those women, isn't she? Bloody Face.
Sister Jude : Bloody Face?
Lana: An eyewitness caught a glimpse of him leaving one of the crime scenes wearing a mask, which appeared to be made of human flesh. I heard he's going to be admitted here today. Is there any way I can meet him?
Sister Jude : You're not in the least bit interested in our good works.
Lana: Our town's in a collective panic. This maniac is decapitating women, three of them so far.
Sister Jude : I see you for exactly who you are.
Lana: Three minutes. Give me three minutes with him, and I swear to God I will write an amazing...
Sister Jude : Swear to God?! It's rich coming from you.
Lana: People want to understand what's in the mind of someone like him.
Sister Jude : There's not a pious bone in your body.
Lana: Where's the harm in that?
Sister Jude : You're out of your depth, Miss Lana Banana. You want a story? Write this down. Your killer is being turned over to us by the authorities until it is determined whether he is fit to stand trial.