By: The Editors
(scene: monterey, california, thursday, 2014, april. Stoned. watching baseball. bantering aesthetics.)
Kraig: Let’s smoke weed about it.
Tyler: You don’t say. Pack a bowl, asshole.
Kraig: That seems like yr job, lately.
Tyler: You don’t say.
Kraig: What goes around, comes around. (Tyler passes the Gobblin over to Kraig, characteristically offering him greens.) Nah, you should probably spark that.
Tyler: Why, thank you, my lady.
Kraig: Does that make you my sugar daddy?
Tyler: I thought we were dating? Just don’t tell Theresa.
Kraig: Yr fiance is pretty damn intuitive, buddy.
Tyler: What’s next, where do we go from here?
Kraig: Tyler, the walls move when I look at them. Why are you asking me?
Tyler: I can work myself into that frenzy too, buddy.
Kraig: Yea, you yell and I laugh.
Tyler: But we’re both crying the whole time.
Kraig: Practiced hands are insanity.
Tyler: Wait, so where were we?
Kraig: God dammit, Tyler.
Kraig: Never mind. I’m in hell, I doubt you are, tho. (Melodramatically, with his hand on his forehead,)
Tyler: (*sighs) Man, I’m just watching baseball. These anti-cigarette ads are a kind of hell, tho, and I don’t even smoke. You can write that down.
Kraig: I’m a feminist in space too much, Tyler. I’m so deep in the pit of theory I can’t even see the ding dang sun, son.
Tyler: We’re two white men in America at the end of empire sitting in a smokey room in paradise.
Kraig: I know, that’s why I hate it so much. We’re gonna be famous.
Tyler: Yea, we’re gonna be famous. Maybe I’ll get to throw the first pitch at a giants game someday.
Kraig: You’d just fucking love that.
Tyler: Yr right, I would fucking love that. I could probably even throw a strike, baby.
Kraig: O, blow me, Tyler.
Tyler: If I threw out the first pitch, would you catch?
Kraig: In my life, I am going to sleep with many, many sexy and slutty men, you will not be one of them, boo boo.
Tyler: I hate the word boo.
Kraig: Art is Hard.
Tyler: #DEEP. #META.
Kraig: Give me another hashtag, baby.
Kraig: I’m post-politically correct, bitch.
Tyler: That’s gay.
Kraig: I did some pretty gay shit last night.
Tyler: Do tell.
Kraig: Lounging in the nude with some freaks, smoking newports inside denotes me as a classless and pretty bitch, Tyler.
Tyler: Pretty fucking hairy.
Kraig: Fuck you.
Tyler: I thought we covered that already.
Kraig: I’d say, go to hell, but I’m gonna have to just invite you in like an old friend.
Tyler: Looks like we made it! And look at all the beautiful people here! There’s no place I’d rather be.
Kraig: “Hell is other people.” – Jean-Paul Sartre
Tyler: Maybe if yr a fucking existential, nihilistic prick.
Kraig: The only way I could be a nihilist is if I got my hands on some black tar, so no thank you, but I am an existential prick and I’m also a slut who doesn’t vote. I am registered, tho, as a fucking democrat so I get jury duty bullshit and I only did it because I was asked to sign a petition by some guy who told me he could keep the government out of the internet and then he pointed Austin and I to a good place to roll a spliff in windy-ass berkeley.
Tyler: Well, that all makes perfect sense, but why a democrat?
Kraig: I guess because I was too much of a pussy at 18 to go for peace and freedom or communist. I guess I hadn’t sucked cock yet.
Tyler: Oh man, one time I registered republican so I could vote for ron paul in the primaries. In my defense, I changed it immediately to the green party.
Kraig: O, fuck off. I just don’t even care. Where are we again?
Tyler: In america, at the end of empire, baby, how did you forget? Trying to organize a bunch of fucking anarchists.
Kraig: I really like fucking anarchists.
Tyler: “Free yr mind and yr ass will follow.” – Funkadelic
Kraig: I’m as free as I’ve ever been, bro.
Tyler: Don’t bro me. Don’t bro me, dude.
Kraig: Art is hard.
Tyler: Wait, so where were we again?
(drop the mic)