bleibe, reste, stay!

“Why should I?” Jimmy shrugged stuffing his hands in his pockets as he turned to face Bobby, “Look, I didn’t ask for your advice, I barely know you. I’m just trying to get home from work, dude. You’re the one pestering me, and it sounds like you’re the one with problems.”

Lately, we’ve been the ones propping her up after you tear her down, so you need us a lot more than you think.

Oh, you actors and your bloody feelings. I know acting’s your passion, but it’s also your job. Most bosses don’t coddle their employees, and I’m no different.

Keep telling yourself that. It wouldn’t be the big, splashy Broadway hit you want without the ensemble, and it takes a talented bunch to make your choreography look as good as it does.

We haven’t got a hit on our hands yet, so let’s not get ahead of ourselves. I’ll admit the ensemble has a place, and that place is behind my star.

You say that now, but the ensemble is the glue that holds this thing together. Both onstage and off.

Is that what Linda’s been telling you lot? I said she should keep morale up, not give you delusions of grandeur.

Or charming Canadian ensemble members who actually have a job right now and no desire to leave it?

Who’s worried about a member of the bloody chorus next to me? Bombshell can afford to lose a few dancers, but she won’t get very far without her director.

Now we won’t be deporting any law-abiding, brilliantly talented Brits with valid visas, will we?

My boyfriend. Is being an asshole. And is probably out getting drunker than me right now anyway, so I should probably just go home and fall asleep before he gets back so we don’t have to fight again when he gets home.

Thanks for the drink, keep the change. And for listening, or whatever that was.

Don’t worry, that’s not really my style. I can hold my alcohol well enough.

Which is fortunate right now because I’m avoiding going home to avoid the person who’d be picking me up off the floor if I were prone to that.

Look this isn’t Cheers and I’m not here to be your buddy bartender that listens to your life story.

Tempting, but I’m watching my figure. Plus I have a matinee tomorrow, and if I get started on the shit that actually tastes good I might not make it in.

Normally I’m not, but I’m not really in the mood to go home just yet, and everyone else was. So sue me.

Hey, not my place to judge. I’m just the guy that has to peel you off the floor if you pass out, so don’t hit it too hard.

I mean… Technically, I guess…

I am more than ready. Vodka cran, double.

Oh double, going big tonight, huh?