Spencer: (sitting like a pompous ass on the bed, waiting for conscious answers) Tone, you know this is a business, don't you? (Looks Tony over as well as Jamie. Both look functional, a little edgy, but not quite dressed, just in jeans, barefooted. Tony seems to be scratching at a tiny scab on his cheek. Both look as if they need sleep, yet hold an ominous skeleton look about them in the shadow of their eyes.)
Tony: Yeah. (Tony shrugs. Won't look Spencer in the eye. Scratches his scab ever so slightly) So? (He winces like its not a problem of his.)
Spencer: Boys, need to take in consideration of their clients. Now don't you? You've become disgusting pigs. And I don't even know where you picked up this prick(looks at Jamie). But clean yourselves up. Aye? (he doesn't look to pleased with either of them.)
Tony: Jamie's a Yank. (Tony looks serious as if Jamie might be a special).
Spencer: Yum (he smirks as if that isn't enough). What's he do? Sings all the words to the Star Spangle Banner when he cums? Who gives a fuck!
Jamie: (sounding so nervous and a bit jumpy) Actually, I'm...uh...Canadian, Vancouver.
Spencer: Don't nauseate me, please? (Spencer flinches).
(Tony looks at Jamie. Shrugging, as if he didn't know Jamie was Canadian. Tony holds in a giggle. Jamie too as if this is all fucking hilarious, and yet they stand there in the old motel room as if they have their hands tied.)
Spencer: Look, I'm not running a zombie clinic. OK? (his eyes lit as if he'd just soon as kill one of them so the other could watch him die in hopes something might change for the better). Get your fucking game on! We're here to make some cash! DO YOU HEAR ME? GAME ON. Start fucking with a lot less shit in your system. If you know whats good for you. You do it my way or you may have a lot to regret.
(Tony nods as if its a warning he should take seriously, but he looks at Jamie from the corner of his eye. He knows he'll just have to be more clever.)