October 28, 1896: Fool
He calls himself a magician. And how many times have I commented that he is only a showman. I would laugh, if it were not so horribly painful as it is. As if that is not enough, he pushes me aside like a servant boy. Back to the workhouse, Borden. Clearly, he has no knowledge of the trick, and I do. I know what knots to tie, and how to hold the cage just right, or how to spot the secret in a another magician’s act. So he relies solely on Cutter, but I am just as good!
Angier is a fool! He will never be successful. I don’t need any of his acts, he is only a weight on my shoulders, I could be such a better illusionist without Angier. He thinks that he wins. He doesn’t, and he won’t. I will make sure of it. He will pay for making me look bad on the stage yet again. The time that he learns I won’t tolerate his pompous baring will be too late. “The Great Rupert Angier” will be nothing next to me.
I despise him. And he best know that I do.