Mr. Newberry:
Did I have you figured wrong?
Marty:
I don't know - I mean, I hope so.
Mr. Newberry:
I visualized you in a haze as one of those slackster, flannel-wearing, coffee-house misanthropes I've been seeing in "Newsweek."
Marty:
No no no, I went the other road. Six figures, doing business with leadpipe cruelty, mercenary sensibility. You know... sports, sex, no real relationships with anyone. How about you, how have the years been treating you?
Mr. Newberry:
Well, you know me, Martin. Still the same old sell-out, exploiting the oppressed...
Marty:
Sure.
Mr. Newberry:
"Ah, what a piece of work is man, how noble..." ah, fuck it. Let's have a drink and forget the whole damn thing.
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05/03/2025 alle ore 08:29
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