✕（ ⋮ @twoton21of1. ）
❝ Do you think you could ever fall in love with a girl who didn’t care about all your dweeby bullcrap? ❞
It’s probably a bad time for this, but goddamn, he hadn’t seen Gary in ages. He ignores the fact that the Ventech is under siege, ignores the fact that Gary is armed, ignores the bodyguard screaming at him to run to the panic room, and skitters past a stream of bullets to touch base with his former backyard hobo, hopping over the new gaping hole in the ground caused by an explosion, just moments ago.
With his gaze focused very intently on his frienemy-emphasis-on-the-frien, he continues,
❝ I mean, let’s say she’s like, the most passionate, exciting, mysterious, red-hot little chickie who has ever been able to remember your name, and you feel wicked alive and kinda terrified in her general presence, and you like her so much that you don’t even care that she might have some connection to the mob, and when you’re around her there’re more butterflies in your tummy than there were in the Monarch’s last cocoon... but she keeps yawning when you talk about Batm--ah, uh-Star Trek. And you don’t want to make her sit through, uh, Star Trek, because somehow she just-- she totally doesn’t care, but... ❞
He keeps babbling, and it’s probably getting harder to hear him over the sound of the alarm going off in the building. A severed head rolls past them.