Mrs. Crowley: I'm not gonna say it again. It is bedtime now.
Megan: It's for him.
Dr. Stonehill: Me?
Megan: For good luck. For bass fishing.
Dr. Stonehill: Thank you.
Megan: You like it?
Dr. Stonehill: Well, sure. A happy-go-lucky little fellow, lots of personality?
Megan: He's a plastic toy.
Dr. Stonehill: I know.
John Crowley: Here's the father-daughter dance. You haven't lived until you've seen Megan do the Wheelchair Watusi.
Mrs. Crowley: Here you go. Go ahead and eat the cobbler while it's hot.
John Crowley: Smells great, honey. This was hilarious. Bob, we went to this dude ranch. All right if I call you Bob?
Dr. Stonehill: You got a check for a half-million dollars, hell, you can call me Peggy Sue.
John Crowley: I'll just...Well, Bob. This is the first installment against the promised half a million.
Dr. Stonehill: Tell you the truth, that's more than I expected.
John Crowley: Dr. Stonehill, we promise that...Yeah, I know. If... In enough time, then...
Dr. Stonehill: I know. I know. You can learn a lot about a person on the Internet these days. Learn about a working-class kid from New Jersey, worked his way through Harvard Business School, clawing his way up the ladder at Bristol-Myers. But what Google can't tell you is that this scared, desperate, bullshitting son of a bitch...
Mrs. Crowley: Wait just a minute...
Dr. Stonehill: Don't interrupt. Will do and say whatever it takes to get results. Which is why you and me are going into business together, Jersey.
John Crowley: Excuse me?
Dr. Stonehill: I'm tired of begging breadcrumbs from the university and giving them the patents to my ideas. They don't value my work. You do, which is why I'm setting up my own shop. Figure any dude in a business suit can help me raise venture capital and run the company, but who's gonna be half as motivated as a dad who's trying to save his own kids?
John Crowley: So, this is...
Dr. Stonehill: So this is the shittiest offer you're ever gonna get. I can promise you less money, longer hours, lousy working conditions, plus, if we raise the money, you're gonna have to relocate to Nebraska. And with the right business plan, I can also promise you a working enzyme for Pompe disease. I can't cure your kids, you know that. They're always gonna be in wheelchairs, but I think I can save their lives. Outstanding cobbler.
Mrs. Crowley: Okay, okay. So, we agree we can't uproot the kids.
John Crowley: What if Stonehill fails? Or what if he succeeds too late to help Megs and Patrick? Then what?
Mrs. Crowley: I know. If we're gonna lose them young, you want to spend every minute you can with them. John, that day that you flew to Nebraska, when you suddenly just ditched work and...My God, I thought you'd lost it. You scared me. But once we rolled our sleeves up, and we started fundraising and meeting other Pompe families, it made me feel like...I mean, do we just accept our fate and do what we're told by all the well-meaning doctors and wait for the worst to happen, or do we fight it?