"The streets are extended gutters and the gutters are full of blood and when the drains finally scab over, all the vermin will drown. The accumulated filth of all their sex and murder will foam up about their waists and all the whores and politicians will look up and shout 'Save us!'... and I'll whisper 'no'." "...Uuuh, right. Look, Mr. Moore, that's great and all but I'm kind of in the weeds here. Was that gonna be soup, salad, or fries with your grilled cheese?"