We do f***ed up things to each other. And we hurt each other, and it gets messy, but that’s just us, in any world you’re in.[to Whiterose]
So let me see if I got this. You wanna get into real estate. Is that it? Is that what all this is about? Is that really your groundbreaking epiphany here? No. That can’t really be it, is it? In your word salad, I heard something about drug dealing. Thing is, Pfizer and Eli are a few billion ahead of you, and they can buy your death with the same half-cent it costs them to make a pill. You wanna get into billboards? Download Photoshop. Make yourself a cute portfolio. Stores, with the debt everyone’s in, I’m sure they’ll gladly give them to you, in which case, you’ll just be owned by their banks. Trains are even more bankrupt, and don’t even get me started on the NYPD. Even that blunt you wanna roll is gonna be marked up by Big Tobacco itself. Point is, this city is one big, fat credit card bill, and you wanna pay it, all so you can, what, be another suit with a mortgage?[to Vera]
Our paths were too precisely linked to this moment for there not to be a reason. This is why. You get to decide.