Nobody tells jokes anymore do they? Karl, do you have any jokes?
What's that?
I'm saying, Karl... it's a bit dry in here.
Oh.
Do you have any jokes?
Um, uh, well, let me think, um... [stammering]
Oh, dry as fucking dust. Come on! Roast me! Hmm? Give me a drubbing! Frank, start. Be funny.
Uh, it's not really my thing, Chief.
Oh, so, what? You don't think I can take it?
No, it's just not my style. I mean, I can. Uh, the thing about Logan Roy is... T-- uh, the thing about Logan is he's a tough old nut. [laughs]
Oh, Christ. Sid fucking Caesar. Greggy.
You're mean. [clears throat] You're mean. You're a mean, old man. You're-- you're a mean, old bastard. Uh, and you scare the life out of folks. That's your thing. You're scaring me right now. And-- and that's why I don't even know how-- what to do.
Who wants to smell Greg's finger. Hey? Guess the scent, win a buck.
[Greg chuckles softly]
Come on, roast me!
Where are your kids? Where's all your kids, Uncle Logan? On your big birthday?
Well, where's your old man, huh? Where's your old man? Still sucking cock at the county fair?
[Greg exhales sharply and smirks]
Gerri, been sent anything funny lately?
All a bit horrible for me. Thanks, Logan.
I'm not being horrible. I'm being fun. Fucking Munsters.
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