[An unfolded steel folding chair.]

[An outdated DEF banner scotch-taped to the wall.]

[A plastic fern resting in the corner.]

[THE. COOL.]

[Shades and all.]

“I am baffled.”

“I really am.”

[A puzzled look covers the Count’s clean shaven face to further punctuate his state of mind.]

“Jane, why is it you think you can talk to me as if we’re equals?”

“--Not that I’m hating because you’re a female and I am chauvinistic.”

[The Count is above dishwashing jokes.]

“It’s more so because... well, I am Cancer Jiles. I’ve marqueed EVERYWHERE for the past four  years.”

“And you, Jane, I didn’t even recognize sitting in the same booth.”

[Burn.]

“You, whose name I couldn’t even be bothered to remember... who has the nerve to question my accomplishments as if I had none to speak of...”

[Defeated by befuddlement, Cancer the COOL wildly throws his arms up in the air-- because his head spinning around like Linda Blair would’ve been unrealistic.]

“--By the way, Jane, if I wanted to brag about my past accomplishments I would have stayed in Chicago.”

[Chicago = HOW.]

“Alas, this is Defiance.”

“And to put it in terms you might understand, we deal in the now. And now, the biggest bounty on someone’s head belongs to me. And yes, that is to say I eat lunch inside the eye of the storm, Jane.”

“Daily.”

[Lord Jiles has been a busy man, defiantly showcasing his skills for all to see.]

“I’m the guy who has his COOLtanium plated hand in EVERYTHING.”

“Soon to be up your skirt.”

“Still in your boss’ wallet.”

“WILL BE chawping the moustache off Bronson Box’s face.”

“Flipping off Jeff Andrews.”

“Egging the Untouchables.”

[Wiping the blood from his face.]

“RIGHT NOW Jane, as I’m speaking to you... I’m the fucking juggernaut of this federation.”

[Meme.]

“People don’t come to Defiance to see Edward White and his cronies puff cigar smoke and talk about capital gains, AND they sure as fuck don’t come here to listen to some indignant secretary tell stories about past vacations to Disney World.”

“They come here to see the man, Jane.”

[Drama pause.]

“And I am that man.”

[Proudly, Cancer’s flexed thumb goes jabbing away at his chest.]

“That, is my accomplishment.”

“So go on and roll your eyes until they fall out of your pretty little head. Yawn away, and keep counting on the guy who survived being buried alive to make another mistake.”

[The Count’s proud thumb turns into a sarcastic sign of approval.]

“Stupid bitch.”

[Thumb down.]

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