-Nobody came to see us. And I drew five thousand flyers! This isn’t how I dreamed it would be.
-That’s why they’re called dreams. Because they’re not real. You see now why I’m harping on you to study in school? Why you got to be realistic? You did your best, you tried hard and you failed. And there’s no shame in striking out.
Let’s face it, we’ll never get our music heard. The only way to make it is to bribe DJs with cocaine.
-Well, if a little blow is all it takes, then let’s get some and give it to that DJ.
-We can’t do that.
-Sure we can!
-You boys looking for something? Something to make you feel good?
-Shit yes.
-Now we’re talking.
-You looking for that white stuff?
-Yes, sir.
-Ten dollars.
-Deal!
-I won’t come back until that fucking DJ has listened to our song.
-Your DJ is disrespecting my artist.
-For the last time, I ain’t playing this record. It’s a piece of bubblegum shit.
-Look, brother, you and I both know this record sucks, but things are tight, and I need you to play ball.
-I won’t do it, Vic!
-Hank, my man, you care about the purity of music, as do I, but sometimes you got to play the game. The only way to make it less painful for us is a little tooter of Bolivian Agreement Powder.
-I love you, Vic. I love this record!
-Yes! Rock it! One, two, three.
This song is like, is like cocaine through my nose, in my nose in my ears.
That coke can change the world!
You don’t belong here, and you don’t belong here, you fucking sellouts! You said you care about the purity of music? Well, if that’s true and you have one shred of self-respect left in your souls, you will listen to the future of rock!
This is show business, you little cunt. No one gives a sh1t how you feel.
You’re gonna go out there, and you’re gonna relax the fuck out of that crowd, proving once and for all that 30 is the last year of your 20s.
Never give up on your dreams.
Open your ears and listen to the future.
