Artie: You're an idiot, Pete. You're just a dancing monkey. Just one bad decision away from the bottle. You really think that Artie wants to be your substitute father, playing daddy to a weak-willed six-year-old, trapped in an aging man's body, still whining about letting his real father die in a fire when you should have saved him?
Myka: Artie, stop.
Artie: And you, with your uncompromising, prudish rigidity, and your condescension and your infuriating belief that you're always the smartest one in the room. You're on a direct path to spending the rest of your life alone. Artie wants you out of his life... forever.
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