(upbeat music)
-: I don't know how much more I can take.
-: So what do you wanna do?
-: Maybe it's time for me to step down.
Let someone else make the tough calls.
(honking and screeching)
-: I'm reading some unusual synaptic potentials.
-: Does it have something to do with those prophets?
-: All right, I haven't got a title for this one yet.
Anybody got any ideas?
-: I'll think of something.
-: It's not personal, Benny,
but as far as our readers are concerned
Benny Russell is as white as they are.
-: What about W.B. Du Bois, Zora Neale Hurston,
Langston Hughes.
-: I wish things were different, but they're not.
-: Wishing never changed a damn thing.
-: What're you doing around here?
-: I work here.
-: What are you, a janitor?
-: Write the truth that's in your heart.
The truth that shall set them free.
(typewriter typing) -: You want me to print it?
Make the captain white.
-: That's not what I wrote.
-: The path of the prophets,
sometimes leads into darkness and pain.
-: Your services are no longer required here.
-: What?
-: You can't fire me, I quit.
To hell with you.
And to hell with Stone. [Papers and clutter fall to the ground]
-: I'm warning you, Benny.
If you don't stop this I'm going to call the police.
(sobbing) -: I am a human being, dammit.
-: You are the dreamer
and the dream.
-: What are you going to do?
-: The only thing I can do.
Stay here and finish the job I started.
And if I failed, I fought a good fight.
I have finished the course.
I have kept the faith.