Mike Enslin: The room's gotta be filthy. I mean, the sheets haven't been changed in... what, eleven years?
Gerald Olin: No no no. We're very professional here. 1408 gets a light turn once a month. I supervise, the maids work in pairs. We treat the room as if it's a chamber filled with poison gas. We only stay 10 minutes and I insist the door remain open.
But still... A few years ago a young maid from El Salvador found herself locked in the bathroom. She was only there for a few moments, but when we pulled her out she was...
Mike Enslin: [sarcastically] She was dead?
Gerald Olin: No. Blind. She had taken a pair of scissors and gouged her eyes out. She was laughing hysterically.
Mike Enslin: Look man, just give me the key.
Gerald Olin: Mr. Enslin, you...
Mike Enslin: Just give me the key! Listen, I stayed... at the Bixby House. I brushed my goddamn teeth right next to the tub where Sir David Smith drowned his whole family, and I stopped being afraid of vampires when I was 12. Do you know why I can stay in
your spooky old room, Mr. Olin? Because I know that ghoulies and ghosties and long-legged beasties... don't exist. And even if they did, there's no God to protect us from them, now is there?
Gerald Olin: So I can't talk you out of this?
Mike Enslin: I think we've reached an understanding.
Gerald Olin: [pats documents regarding 1408's victims] I will let you have this, give you access to my office, you can take notes and put it all in your book. My only condition... is that you do not stay in that room.
Mike Enslin: You'll let me look at all that stuff?
[considering Olin's offer]
Gerald Olin: Hmm.
Mike Enslin: I never did get that drink.
[Olin pours a glass of the $800 whiskey, handing it to Enslin. Enslin takes a sip]
Mike Enslin: Ooh, that is good.
Gerald Olin: [smiling] Here, keep it. Compliments of the house.
[hands bottle to Enslin]
Mike Enslin: [after dropping the bottle into his bag
and taking another sip] I'm still staying.
Gerald Olin: [yelling] Dammit to hell!
[Lily is reaching Mike Enslin via his laptop]
Lily Enslin: Michael? Can you hear me?
[Mike is freezing during a supernatural cold spell in Room 1408, but manages to crawl over to his laptop]
Mike Enslin: Yeah.
Lily Enslin: Oh, my God, thank God. Jesus, I've been trying to get through.
Mike
Enslin: [whispering] Did you call the cops?
Lily Enslin: Yeah, yeah, they're at the hotel! Didn't you say the Dolphin?
Mike Enslin: Yes.
Lily Enslin: You're sure.
Mike Enslin: Yes. Yes. 1408.
Lily Enslin: Yeah. They're in 1408. The room's empty.