"That's your problem, not mine," he says merrily. Another sticking of tongue. He really likes doing that doesn't he. "Guess you'll have to stop pissing me off for that, huh? And buy me dinner. Actually, I'll take a motherfucking car, since I'd bet your dick's as full of shit as you are."

He grits his teeth a little. Yeah, waiting. He hates it too. "Same." A small pause. "Sometimes I feel like I wanna go up there and fuck shit up, you know? But I can't. I'm just a motherfucking musician and they're the hot shit." How annoying. Why does it feel like he's supposed to be something more sometimes?