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Martin Q. Blank
: Do you *really* believe that there's some stored up conflict that exists between us? There *is* no us. *We* don't exist. So who do you wanna hit, man? It's not me. Now whaddya wanna do here, man? Bob
: [Pulls out a folded up piece of paper
] Martin Q. Blank
: I don't know what that is. Bob
: These are my words. Martin Q. Blank
: It's a poem? See, that's the problem... express yourself, Bob! Go for it. Bob
: "When I feel... quiet... when... I feel... blue..." Martin Q. Blank
: You know, I think that is *terrific*, what you have right there. Really, I liked it, a lot. I wouldn't sell the dealership or anything but, I'm tellin' ya... it's intense! Bob
: There's... more. Martin Q. Blank
: Okay, would ya mind, just skip to the end. Bob
: To... the very end? "For a while." Martin Q. Blank
: Whew. That's good man. Bob
: "For a while." Martin Q. Blank
: That's excellent! Bob
: You wanna do some blow? Martin Q. Blank
: No I don't. Bob
: [Hugs Martin
: Real smart. C'mon. Let's see how smart you are with my foot up your ass!
: I'm drawing a complete... Blank.