Sidney: There he is-.. I could’ve died whilst you were out there chain smoking, y’know.
Alton: Sid…
Sidney: I’m kidding! Christ, I’m fine.
Oscar: Are you?
Sidney: [scoffs] I’ll probably be fine.
Oscar: Probably?
Alton: Don’t sit there and lie to him.
Sidney: Fine, fine-.. I might have cancer.
Alton: You do have cancer.
Sidney: But it’s early-ish, so it’ll be fine! Honestly, he shouldn’t have called either of you-.. waste of time.
Alton: They made it sound like an emergency, I panicked!
Sidney: You panic when you can’t find the remote.
Oscar: How could you not tell?
Sidney: It’s not like I was an oncologist.
Alton: And you wonder where your “I’m going to ignore this until it goes away except it won’t” gene comes from.
Sidney: If you don’t wipe that look off your face, I’ll strangle you with a stray catheter. You’re practically made of sugar; you barely do any exercise since high school and I’m the one who ends up getting cancer?! What horseshit.
Alton: It probably helps that I don’t have breasts.
Sidney: You fucking do.
[Alton snickered, slouching exaggeratedly as he threw his hands behind his head]
Alton: Well.. if you took a leaf out of my book and kicked your feet up now n’ then, maybe we wouldn’t be here.
Sidney: Hit him for me.
Oscar: He’s got a point.
Sidney: Don’t start-.. that’s not how it works.
Oscar: So, what now?
Sidney: Go home-.. and maybe apologise to your wife for ignoring her calls.
Alton: Noah told her everything, don’t worry.
Oscar: Shit, I left my phone in the car.
Sidney: Ohh, because you panicked and wound up with tunnel vision-.. I wonder who that comes from?
Oscar: I got the worst of you combined, huh?
Alton: Sorry, son.
[Oscar tried his best to produce an upbeat chuckle, but all he could muster was a pathetic snort devoid of mirth]
Sidney: Go on, I’m not going anywhere yet…