Look, David, we're putting out this issue with a tribute to Scott.
Why? So people can glance at it and then throw it in the garbage?
No, so people can get some idea about who he was.
Look, he was a jerk, okay? He was a jerk who blew himself away, that's who he was. You don't know. You left early. You missed out on the fun part when he picked up a loaded gun and twirled it around like he was Wyatt Earp. You weren't there to see him goof up and bleed all over his mom's Persian rug.
David, the microphone is on.
I don't care. No-one gave a rat's ass about Scott until he died and I was the worst one of all! He was my best friend and I dropped him! Because he wasn't cool like you or Kelly or Steve.
David...
So they're looking at me. So what? They've been looking at me for days, Brandon! "Oh, poor David, is he going to be okay? I hope he hasn't cracked up yet." I can't even walk through the halls without someone in my face trying to cheer me up like they're my new best friend! Well, what about my old best friend? It doesn't matter what you write about him in that paper, Brandon. It doesn't matter what you say about someone once they're gone. What matters is how you treat them when they're still here. (pause) I guess you can quote me on that.
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