—What are we looking at here?
—There are questions about certain ethical problems with your organization?
—Problem? I’m not familiar. What is that word?
—Rooster, can you… can you please stop spitting on the ground.
—Nobody gave me a cup.
—Do you have to chew tobacco during a conference call?
—We’re a startup. We’re hipster. Come on Randall, get with it. You sound really out of touch now.
—We’re still interested in doing business with you but you’re not making it easy. Late reports, no accounting… When are we going to see a return on this?
—I just… can you… you are so irritating. Can we wrap this up? I have a lunch and a toot waiting for me. Sniff.
—What are you spending our money on?
—Look, listen to me. Listen to me, Randall. I have this covered. I’m going to write you a check… right now, and send it to you when funds are sufficient for you to cash it. Good day, sir!
—I think it went something like that.
—Okay, can you try a little harder to remember what you said exactly? Mr. Yoris said you threatened his family and that… he said you told him you’d “be waiting in the bushes outside his family’s home with duct tape and Vaseline.”
—Well, yeah. You’ll get a rash otherwise.
—Look, we’ve already been here for eight hours. Can I get you something to eat? Want a smoke?
—Oh, so now you’re good cop? Where was good cop when I had to go to the bathroom?
—Out to lunch.
—Ugh! You and your witticisms. I wish I were a TV cop.
—This is real jail…
—AM I UNDER ARREST? I WAS NEVER TOLD THAT I WAS UNDER ARREST. I WAS UNDER THE ASSUMPTION THAT I WAS HERE OF MY OWN VOLITION AND FREE WILL. IS THAT RIGHT, SIR?
—Calm down, look over there. Whoa.
—What? Oh— ahh! Fu—
I was just thinking about buying a home on the coast. I know—climate change, much? Listen, I’ve thought of that. I’ll get flood insurance, I’ll put up some levees, no big deal. Titanium walls. Brutalist design. No windows in the whole place. A coastal bunker. And if it breaks off the land it’ll be fully equipped to act as a submarine. I’m still working out the kinks—ha, don’t kink-shame me, am I right? Anyway how much do I owe you?
—Roo, what is it?
—I just had the worst dream.
—What was it?
—I was running a startup… I had cocaine on me… I was going to buy a home on the Arizona coast.
—Yeah, you’ve never been? Nice. Harsh vibes though. Cops and all. Meth, too.
—Arizona is landlocked.
—Yeah, not for long. Heh.
—Stop saying that.
—“Heh.” It’s annoying. It’s like you’re some… fedora person.
—Oh, well excuuuuuuuuuse me for laughing at my own joke.
—Yeah, stop doing that too.
—Have you heard any folk music lately? Good stuff? I need something to write to… I’m too distracted these days.
—You also stay up in here all day and night. We have a big house, you know? Lots of room for living, eating, breathing, anything. Reading. Writing, I guess…
—I think… I have an idea… I know how to write this book now… I think… I—
—ROO! Don’t fall over like that. I hate that joke. I don’t even get the reference.
—I envy you…
—I made stew, would you like some?
—Yes. Thank you, Monica. I need to stop falling asleep at my desk.
—I killed those rabbits that were bothering you the other day, by the way. I threw them in the stew.
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