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"
The
hell
with
you
,
buddy
.
"
"
Oh
,
yes
;
I
forgot
to
add
that
I
noticed
your
primitive
brutality
also
this
morning
.
Psychopath
with
definite
sadistic
tendencies
,
probably
motivated
by
an
unreasoning
egomania
.
Yes
.
As
you
see
,
all
these
natural
talents
certainly
qualify
you
as
a
competent
therapist
and
render
you
quite
capable
of
criticizing
Miss
Ratched
's
meeting
procedure
,
in
spite
of
the
fact
that
she
is
a
highly
regarded
psychiatric
nurse
with
twenty
years
in
the
field
.
Yes
,
with
your
talent
,
my
friend
,
you
could
work
subconscious
miracles
,
soothe
the
aching
id
and
heal
the
wounded
superego
.
You
could
probably
bring
about
a
cure
for
the
whole
ward
,
Vegetables
and
all
,
in
six
short
months
,
ladies
and
gentlemen
or
your
money
back
.
"
Instead
of
rising
to
the
argument
,
McMurphy
just
keeps
on
looking
at
Harding
,
finally
asks
in
a
level
voice
,
"
And
you
really
think
this
crap
that
went
on
in
the
meeting
today
is
bringing
about
some
kinda
cure
,
doing
some
kinda
good
?
"
"
What
other
reason
would
we
have
for
submitting
ourselves
to
it
,
my
friend
?
The
staff
desires
our
cure
as
much
as
we
do
.
They
are
n't
monsters
.
Miss
Ratched
may
be
a
strict
middle-aged
lady
,
but
she
's
not
some
kind
of
giant
monster
of
the
poultry
clan
,
bent
on
sadistically
pecking
out
our
eyes
.
You
ca
n't
believe
that
of
her
,
can
you
?
"
"
No
,
buddy
,
not
that
.
She
ai
n't
peckin
'
at
your
eyes
.
That
's
not
what
she
's
peckin
'
at
.
"
Harding
flinches
,
and
I
see
his
hands
begin
to
creep
out
from
between
his
knees
like
white
spiders
from
between
two
moss-covered
tree
limbs
,
up
the
limbs
toward
the
joining
at
the
trunk
.
"
Not
our
eyes
?
"
he
says
.
"
Pray
,
then
,
where
is
Miss
Ratched
pecking
,
my
friend
?
"
McMurphy
grinned
.
"
Why
,
do
n't
you
know
,
buddy
?
"
"
No
,
of
course
I
do
n't
know
!
I
mean
,
if
you
insi
--
"
"
At
your
balls
,
buddy
,
at
your
everlovin
'
balls
.
"
