Billy Butcher.
Joe Kessler. Fuck me, how long's it been?
I'd say eleven years, but officially speaking, none of that shit show ever happened.
Then how come I remember you high on opium, rimmin' out the General's wife?
Well, fuck you. [laughs along with Butcher and hugs him] Hey, let me buy you a bad cup of coffee.
[Cut to Butcher and Kessler sitting in a break room]
Demoted from your own fucking team. What's your shitty code name again?
The Boys.
Oof. Who came up with that shit? Why you putting up with it? Walk away.
No, my son, I've got plans and schemes. I'll be back at the head of the table in no time.
Well, you better. You know, a lot of the guys are thinking you got benched at the worst possible time. You know, Mallory's so focused on killing the VP-elect 'cause that's what Singer wants, and half of goddamn Langley's on it.
Well, you know Grace. She's always been a bit of a political animal.
And what are you focused on?
Homelander. He killed that poor cunt in broad daylight, and they fuckin' cheered. I mean, what d'you think that taught him, eh? No. We're whistlin' away towards a fuckin' apocalypse, and Grace's eye ain't on the ball.
You had a clean shot at him, right? With Soldier Boy? You didn't take it. Was your eye on the ball?
Why do I get the feeling we ain't just bumped into each other?
You remember the Panjshir Valley?
Yeah. Pretty hard to forget.
You dragged me out of there and dropped how many bodies to do it, without giving it a second fucking thought.
And yet you still didn't name your son after me, eh?
We need someone like you, Billy. Right fucking now. Before the Supes start rounding us up and dumping us off in camps.
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