[Gordon walks into the kitchen after John served him a raw soft boiled egg.]
Fire away buddy.
Are you having a laugh at your family's expense?
No.
Big tall hat, big jacket and you can't boil a fucking egg.
You want a fried egg? You want French toast too? How about some pancakes?
What the fuck are you doing? You don't care, do you?
I do care.
You're a fucking joke.
(interview) Those are what we refer to as fighting words. Gutsy thing to do, especially in a kitchen full of sharp knives. (normal) It has never been a joke for me. Ever.
"Come play at my school. I'm the head master!" You're acting like an absolute idiot.
No, but you’re in my house.
That’s right, and I’m disgusted at your performance. Your big problem is you can’t handle the truth. You don’t like hearing it.
You don’t even know me. You know... squat!
It’s a joke. Think about your wife! You’re into $1.1 million dollars of debt! You’re forcing her to live in Hell; she’s telling me that! And just think of the last 13 years, about what you’ve fucking done. And not to you, to everyone else standing behind you.
(interview) I'm tired of hearing that. I don't need it anymore. (Gordon leaves the kitchen) Screw it; I really don't care if he leaves.
Fuck me.
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