"How old were you?"
"Old enough. I'm hazy on certain dates, one of the perks of dying I guess. I'm not even sure how old I am now. It's not like the bars I go to ask for my I.D. I mean could you even imagine me pulling over for Gordon and being like-"
"Yeah, I get it."
"See, that's your problem. You can't take a minute to pull that staff out of your tight ass."
"..."
"Dear God, you even brood like he does! Do you even have an original thought? Some sort of dream? Something that is your own?"
