Jack: My, my, you’re incisive today.
Buck: I have to be. Otherwise I wouldn’t be very useful, don’t you think?
Jack: The least you could do is stop being a prick.
Buck: It’s the nitty gritty of reality.
Jack: Well, reality hurts.
Buck: There’s no pixie dust, no royalty to transport. That’s fantasy. This is the next best thing, believe me.
Jack: I don’t need reminding. Well, that fantasy is one of my favorite stories. Thanks for ruining it.
Buck: Why am I not surprised?
Jack: I’ve had quite an influence on popular culture.
Buck: The same is true for me, but I’m cutting edge.
Jack: (sighing) What are you going to do, gut me?
Buck: That’s the idea.
Jack: (toothily) I don’t mean to be square… but why are you doing this?
Buck: (indifferent) It’s necessary. The circumstances demand it.
Jack: …
Buck: Uhh. Who knew you had a seedy underbelly! Thought that only happened in crime fiction.
Jack: (self-absorbed) It’s not fair.
Buck: That’s true, but when I’m done, you will be.
Jack: Huh?
Buck: You do have a nice grin…
Jack: (warming up) I do, don’t I?
Buck: …but your eyes are a bit bent out of shape.
Jack: And here I am, thinking you were being nice for a change.
Buck: I don’t mean to slice and dice your feelings.
Jack: It’s your nature, huh?
Buck: Yes. (sharply) It’s not like I can help it.
Jack: (despondent) At least you don’t stab my back.
Buck: …yet. (stabs Jack’s back)
Jack: What was that for?!
Buck: Dunno. More light, maybe? You sure can hold a candle.
Jack: I sure can, don’t I?
Buck: (sincerely) Yes you can, and it’s brilliant.
Jack: (happily) I’ll forgive you. You know not what you do.
Buck: Yeah. I’m just glad I won’t be turned into pie.
Jack: (miserable) I knew it was too good to be true… once a prick, always a prick.
Buck: It can’t be easy being a pumpkin. Rotting, forgotten in the compost.
Jack: At least I bring joy. What do you draw but blood?
Buck: Blood and meaty orange pulp. Good knowing you, Jack.
Jack: Well, fuck you, Buck. (sarcastic) It was nice while it lasted.