Carlin: You’re jumpin’ the gun, man—you haven’t heard me out.
Joe: I’m not doing anything but what I want to do.

Joe has the phone up under his chin as he points the remote; in his other hand a beer.

18: a snail uses its poison to disrupt the nerves of its prey and then swallows it whole.
Carlin: I just don’t understand how you just do nothin’ all the time.
Joe: I don’t just “do nothin'” Trust me.

22: A crazed scientist reveals his army of robots that will save humanity.
Carlin: Look, what we do… it ain’t… it doesn’t fulfill, you know? We gotta’ get out there and make somethin’ happen when we’re not breakin’ are necks.
Joe: Like hole up in a bar and get in fights.
Carlin: Joe, you don’ know. I ain’t like that. I’m talkin’, like deeper stuff.
Joe: You are just as replaceable as me or anybody else.”
Carlin: Guy, sometimes you say shit… either your five minutes ahead in the conversation or you’re already trippin’.

36: Thousands of people somewhere are dying because food supply lines are being blocked off by War Lords.
Joe: I know what I’m talking about and I don’t want to go to a party. So what’s it matter?
Carlin: You know what I think? I think the pressure’s gettin’ to you. I hear about it happening all the time to guys who don’t blow off some steam.
Joe: Something’s gotten to me.

48: a beautiful gold and diamond necklace that if you don’t purchase right now will be gone.
Carlin: Again, don’t know what the hell you’re on about, but look, you’ll change your mind. I gotta’ go.

52: The weather in Florida sucks.
Joe: All right.
Carlin: Call me later—or, look, I’ll call you. I’m busy.
Joe: To be sure.
Carlin: See you later.
Joe: See ya’.

Carlin hangs up first. Joe listens to the dial tone for a moment as he flips through the pay-per-view channel previews. The noise is comforting: the inevitable dial tone. Every conversation ends. All conversations will eventually end.

68: A car company offers Joe a 7 year, 70,000 mile guarantee.

He changes to a channel with nothing but static and squints. Sometimes he can see her. Sometimes. He stares for a while, sipping his beer. She doesn’t come or call and after a while, he turns the TV off and reaches down beside him for a mangled paperback copy of “Labrynths“

Read the whole thread: The Hunger Engine

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