What is going on with you?!
The only thing going on with me is I am trying to make-do being stuck in this house, and you're obsessed with this stupid mouse! I know, let's do shots. [Picks up two empty bottles] Oh, my God, we're out of booze.
Good. I think you've had enough.
You've had enough. Edgar! Edgar! We're out of booze.
We'll make a run later. [beat] M-Maybe Jimmy's right. Relax.
Relax? Says the guy so riddled with anxiety, he can't sleep through the night without screaming!
Yes, well, uh, we all know that I'm taking the prescribed steps to overcome the very common issues caused by combat situations.
Ugh! We know. You were in a war. Get over it! And while you're at it, get over Lindsay. Have enough self-respect not to focus on someone who's still clearly obsessed with her lame, soft ex-husband.
This is really hard for me.
Oh. "Waah. My husband left me for a female him, and now I can't function in life. Waah!"
[Dorothy laughs, causing Gretchen to turn to her]
Oh, and you! Theater girl!
Yes?
Improv is the lowest form of comedy. That whole school of yours is just a bunch of actors so janky-looking, no one will write lines for them, so you have to make them up yourself.
[into it] Aw, shit.
You're what this town calls a tweener. You're not hot enough to be the lead, and not fat enough to be the funny friend.
You already did me!
Do me, do me.
Not worth it.
Aw, man.
Look, as spectacularly entertaining as this is, maybe you should take a breather.
And then there's Jimmy.
Aw, shit.
No, seriously, Jimmy, I feel such empathy for you, being a writer. I mean, everyone feels sorry for kids forced to work in the diamond mines in Sierra Leone, but where is the telethon for the noble writer? Bravely drinking coffee, spilling his blood to get his feelings out, filling two, maybe three whole pages before his heroic effort is cut short by the desire to watch Internet porn or get a snack! All of you! Sucking the air out of the room with your self-pity-riddled non-problems! Except you, Vernon. You got real issues. You're married to Becca.
Ha! Vernon, ya burnt!
This place is an emotional black hole, and if it wasn't for the runners—yes, they have a name, they're not just "the people," you giant doofus—I would be driving as fast as I could away from you all! But I can't! Because apparently, I live here now, due to completely-beyond-my-control wiring issues for which there will be a lawsuit. Yes! There will be a lawsuit! [sniffles] There will be no lawsuit.
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