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Don't put the concert shit on me. That's your fuck up.

How do you figure that?

You kidding? You're 35, Joe. Learn that the bull you pull has consequences.

We had an agreement, William.

I'm not getting into this.

Oh, please. I knew it fucking worked.

Good for you. Hope you don't go to prison.

I don't think they put guys like me in prison. Hell, I'm pretty sure I don't fucking exist, officially.

Hell, maybe I'm just in your head, Billy. Ever think of that?

You're not. I'd know the difference.

[Looks at Joe just that one second two long, before looking away.]

On account of the fucking body odor.

[Grins.] I don't know, Billiam, they say you sometimes start to smell weird things when you go crazy. Maybe you're as batshit as John.

No one is as batshit as John.

All right, but my point still fuckin' stands.

Your point does not fucking stand. You're the crazy one, hypocrite. Sane people don't do what you did.

You know why I did it.

Don't even.

Don't even what, Bill?

Put what you did on me. That's bullshit. You made your own dumbass choice, and I still have to deal with the shit that came out of it.

Good, I'm glad. You should be.

You're a little bitch, you know that? Did you think you were fucking proving something?

Because you weren't, you didn't, and your grave was robbed and no one fucking cared but Bruce McDonald, who made a nice little end note of it.

So way to go, Joe. You really got me back.

[Lights a cigarette.] Yeah, I know. I totally fuckin' did, didn't I?

So someone really stole my body, eh? That's pretty hard core right there. That's pretty much the definition. Looks like I was better at it than you even as a corpse, Billy.

You don't fucking get it. There was no getting me back.

In this epic, pointless game that didn't take place anywhere but your own strung out mind, you lost. You died. That's game over, and no one was playing but you.

[Looks at Billy for a long moment, quiet.

Then, inhales deeply on his cigarette and blows the smoke out into Billy's face.] Fuck you, you bitch-faced liar. You were playing just as much as I was. More, even.

[Stands there and takes the smoke, not breaking eye contact with Joe]

Not for a long time. It got old.

Why do you think I left the first time? The second time? I was done, Joe. I am done.

And it's not my problem that you couldn't deal with that.

[Again, is quiet for a long time. Finally, shakes his head.] You're a liar, Billy. You're such a liar.

Hope you've been enjoying La-La Land. You're fuckin' made for that place. [Turns to go.]

[Stares after Joe, looking like he wants to yell. He doesn't. The words the come out of Billy's mouth are rushed and urgent, but soft.]

And you knew I was. You've always known.

What made that lie different?

[Stops.]

...I dunno. I guess I thought it was different this time, I thought you wouldn't fuck me again. So I was a fuckin' idiot, what else is new?

You were a fucking idiot.

How long were you carrying around the gun?

[Shrugs.] Couple days. Two days.

So since Bucky's.

Maybe, yeah. So fucking what?

Why were you carrying it around, Joe?

It was a souvenir.

Bullshit.

All right then, William, what do you think?

I think no one carries around a loaded souvenir just because.

Yeah, but you know me, I like to be different.

You like to be stupid.

So when you took it, were you thinking about using it?

Yeah, I was thinking of shooting Pipe in the nads for being such a fucking douche, actually.

[Look at Joe, quiet.]

You know, cops in Edmonton don't have shit to do. So a couple hours after it happened, they asked everyone some questions. My record company got freaked and sent a lawyer, so I didn't have to answer any of them. But they were still allowed to ask.

They asked me, "Billy, were you and Joe fighting?" I didn't say anything. They asked, "Was he on drugs?" I laughed.

They said, "Did he bring that gun to the concert for anyone other than himself?"

I said I didn't know. It's the one time I talked.

So what, Billy, you think I was gonna use it on you? What an arrogant son of a bitch you are. What an arrogant little fuck.

Jesus, but I sure am sorry you had to deal with the cops. That must have been so hard for you.

I didn't say I thought that. I said I didn't know. How the fuck am I supposed to know what happens in that fucked up brain of yours?

Wasn't just the cops. Fucker.

So what did you think, Billy? You must have had a guess or two. You're a smart guy.

Oh yeah? What was it?

I am. So I don't think about it.

It was-

You know what? Fuck it. You'd just eat it all up. You want details, they aren't coming from me.

Who should I ask, then? Bruce? Brucie McDonald?

If you don't mind him fucking filming the Q and A.

I dunno, he's already filmed plenty of personal shit. Why stop now?

Hey -- I smell a sequel.