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: Sara just got off a plane from London. Trudi
: Oh, you must be exhausted. Sara
: Yes, I'm shattered, but it's nothing that some sleep and a good fuck wouldn't cure, as my sister used to say. Ha ha ha.
: You'll have to forgive Sara. Sara
: Oh, it was just... it was just a figure of speech. I've been on a plane for twelve hours next to a crying baby.
: Roland thinks L.A. is a place for the brain-dead. He says, if you turned off the sprinklers, it would turn into a desert. But I think - I don't know, it's not what I expected. It's a place where they've taken a desert and turned it into their dreams. I've seen a lot of L.A. and I think it's also a place of secrets: secret houses, secret lives, secret pleasures. And no one is looking to the outside for verification that what they're doing is all right. So what do you say, Roland? Roland
: I still say it's a place for the brain-dead.
[as they walk to the restaurant, a loud clanging sound is heard
: What's that clanging sound? Roland
: It's a nuisance. It's my damn testicles.
: What do you do for a living, Rollie? Roland
: I deal in English paintings. Frank Swan
: Abstract or realistic? Roland
: Depends on which way you look at them, I suppose.
: That's the difference between England and America. The English maintain civil relationships with their exes. Americans sue them.