“it doesn’t work like that because you won’t let it. i’m not asking you to bare your soul for me. i never asked you to tell me anything. letting me steer you away from drinking while we’re in vegas isn’t signing a contract. futz, man, you could have thought of it as repayment for the hospital if it’s so hard for you, but - that wasn’t cool. this wasn’t cool. i know you don’t really know me, but it - it doesn’t feel all that grand to hear something like from someone i thought i was at least friends with. you have to figure the rest of that out on your own.”
“it might as well be signing a damn contract. backing and forthing’s fuckin’ tiring. i don’t have the energy to stop, go through withdrawals and then, i dunno, when we get back to the mansion -- or if, start drinking all over again. ‘cause some other poor soul thinks they can sort me out, and i have to do the whole damn thing. i was happier drunk and homeless. wish it had bloody stayed that way. but no, i had to go and find a way to reconcile with clint - not that it’s fuckin’ worked.”
