Foreman: Everything locked up?
Apprentice: Of course. See ya' in the AM.
Foreman: Enjoy your reading.
Apprentice: It'll be limited tonight.
Foreman: To what?
Apprentice: The label on my bottle of Sailor Jerry.
Foreman: You won't be worth a shit tomorrow.
Apprentice: Relax, I do my best work drunk.
Foreman: Don't you mean you do your best work in the dark?
Apprentice: No, drunk.
Foreman: Goddamn kids...
Apprentice: It's all fiction from here on out.
Foreman: So?
Apprentice: I'll give you the luxury of having the last word.
Foreman: Don't do me any favors.
Apprentice: Only for the ones I love.
Foreman: Now you've abused your license.
Apprentice: Confiscate my union card.
Foreman: I'll do ya' one better.
Apprentice: Couldn't be any worse.
Foreman: I thought you said you'd let me have the...
Apprentice: Then take it.
Foreman: Goddamn kids...
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