FELLA

Forget it.  Look.  I have credit cards.  I have checks.  I can leave luggage with you for god’s sake.  I can easily pay.  I’m not out to cheat you.

MYRAS

Ain’t that the first thing a cheater always says.

FELLA

Then just tell me where I can find your payphone.  I can’t seem to get a signal up here.

MYRAS

Ain’t got a payphone.

FELLA

Well then let me use your phone.  I’d gladly pay for the call.

MYRAS

And I’d gladly take it except I don’t keep a phone.

FELLA

You don’t keep a phone?

MYRAS

Never had the need.

FELLA

For a telephone.

MYRAS

Never had.

FELLA

Brilliant.

MYRAS

I think so.

        I’m tired of people trying to fix me.  All this advice about going with the flow, about being your own best friend.  Maybe they never thought about the fact that I like being broke.  Call it what you will, I just the see the world the way it is.  It’s not all this mystical extraneous shit.  That doesn’t work for me and I’m sorry if I don’t see it as one giant celebration.  I mean I’m not a gloom and doom type, I can appreciate the happy times.  I like milkshakes and cartoons and carnival rides, whatever.  But I’m not going to fucking pretend that there’s some kind of justice around the corner, some kind of redemption.  It’s all a ton of bullshit.

Never forget that you’re a fighter.

You gonna go back, pick up another loop?

Fuck that.

Les wishes he could be as cool and detached as Vince. Wishes he could relax but he keeps looking around the corners of the transformer.

I think I might. I can’t go home with no money.

Just say you didn’t get out today.

Yeah. I could say that.

You went out twice yesterday right.

Yeah, one was a double.

There you go.

Wednesday is a big day usually.

Whatever. Go back if you want. I’m done.

You wanna walk home?

Let’s cut through the tracks. Let’s go see where Corbin killed himself.

Shit. No way man.

Pussy.

There’s like a million trains.

Not in the afternoon. Not til like four do they start running more. Now it’s only every half hour.

Yeah.

So let’s go.

Vince slides down the cement ledge, dropping to a narrow shelf of gravel below.

You want your cookies?

Leave the fucking cookies. Let’s go.

Yeah.