Sitting in the bar afterwards, they fall to arguing about process.
“Me, I don’t go in for all that bullshit, all that herbs and blood and words bullshit. I just lay into ’em. I don’t need anything except for the evil eye, this fuckin’ eye, man, just this bloodshot fuckin’ eye and a clear day and that’s it. All the rest of it? All that fuckin’ bullshit that you do? That’s all bullshit, that’s just you messin’ with yourself.”
“Ah, what the fuck do you know? What can you do? Stall a car engine, cause a coronary, jam an atm? That’s amateur hour horseshit. Horseshit. You got no scope, like, there are rules to this shit, man, and they’re not just there to jerk you around. People have thought about this shit, man, there are reasons stuff works or it doesn’t. You’re, like, it’s like you’re trying to play the guitar and you don’t want to learn jack about chords or… or, like, the mixolidian scale or whatever the fuck it’s called–“
“Man, fuck your rules. Genius doesn’t need lessons.”