Rifles don't backfire. [ wait this isn't nra class, frank, but he leaves it there. he knows what she meant, obviously. without thinking about it, he hands her the whiskey bottle she's reaching for and leans on the back of another chair. he's too wired to sit, and after a moment, max gives a little doggy-groan and flops over on his side. mom and dad are fighting again. ]
You know, I'm not a soldier anymore either. [ but old habits clearly are not dying any time soon. after shifting from foot to foot a few times, he pulls out the chair and sits adjacent to her. ] It's a good idea. Micro, Trish, Dorothy. When?
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You know, I'm not a soldier anymore either. [ but old habits clearly are not dying any time soon. after shifting from foot to foot a few times, he pulls out the chair and sits adjacent to her. ] It's a good idea. Micro, Trish, Dorothy. When?