Don Roritor:
[Touring the ward of coma patients]
You know, Chris, in a situation like this I think we should rely on my experience. Cause you know, Chris, when I invented Stummies...
Dr. Chris Cooper:
Oh, fuck Stummies! And you too Don! You pushed, boy! You pushed! Dumb Baxter said the drug was great. I said testing! And you - you took away my lab! Cause you - sure, I lost my virginity, but who do you think - you pushed, boy! You pushed! I... gotta return Rear Window to the video store... now this? Comas? Acceptable losses? Late fees?
Don Roritor:
No! No, I-I don't think I *will* fuck Stummies.
[Don marches up to Chris and shoves his finger in Chris's face threateningly]
Dr. Chris Cooper:
Get your finger out of my face, Don!
[Chris slaps Don's finger away]
Don Roritor:
Don't you touch my finger, Chris.
[Don raises his finger to Chris's face again]
Dr. Chris Cooper:
Then get your finger out of my face, Don!
[Chris slaps Don's finger away again]
Don Roritor:
Don't you touch my finger Chris!
[Don raises his finger again]
Dr. Chris Cooper:
Get your finger out of my face!
[Chris slaps away Don's finger again]
Don Roritor:
Don't touch my finger!
[Don raises his finger again; the finger slapping-raising routine repeats about six more times, the two men shouting over each other, until they are embroiled in a pathetic fight that ends with Chris feebly shoving Don towards a door]
Don Roritor:
You know, Chris, I had such high hopes for you. But unfortunately, you just don't get it.
[Shoves through the ward door]
Don Roritor:
Ow my fucking finger!
Riportata da il
05/03/2025 alle ore 08:43