“Exiled To The Zetros Survival Script For Bear Types/Nobody Eats at Brunch”

“How many times can a man fall on his shield without having to live with a shitbag?”

“You mean sword?”

“Whatever.”

“You’re still going…”

“I’ve no right?”

“Of course you do.”

“So, what’s your issue?”

“It isn’t that we don’t care — here, we identify — we’ve all been there. But this is the final week, and I’m not quite sure you’re ready to graduate.”

“Graduate, schmaduate.”

“You’re doing it, again.”

“Listen — ”

“Breathe.”

“I don’t want to fucking breathe, I want to take this pen and just bleed blood orange and squid ink.”

“Can you do that without going back…there?”

“I suppose. I know I can — but we lay verse where there is magic. And sometimes, magic is in the dark spaces.”

“Martyrdom theory.”

“Therapy.”

“In love with the bullshit.”

“Bullshit!”

“Check.”

“I’ll flip this whole shit over.”

“Coffee. Yeti. Eighteen below zero.”