macleod.
spare a chair?
are you going to offer me a chair or leave me standing here all night?
head still secure to the neck.
how many places this side of the atlantic serve lager and lime?
old habits die hard. waitress! a round of nitzhic! peasant drool, i know. but it's the closest thing they stock to my side of the fence.
it is the gathering, my friend. the settling of old scores.
not tonight. tonight i have a drink with an old friend.
come, toast with me the past. to old conquests, old loves, and to a time when we cared about either.
waitress!
i'll never forget the look on that papal commander's face when his "heretic stronghold" turned out to be a rock full of whores climbing all over neuvich.
but then rides up pope pius who calmly brushes the dust from his papal cross, climbs off his papal horse, draws his papal sword and asks just what the hell is going on. and what did neuvich, dear dear drunken neuvich do?
good times then. a man could stretch his legs without bring- ing half the world down around his ears. not like now.
he always did.
-since you last saw me.
come on.
i love zoos. ever since i was a kid.
i knew his great-grandfather.
no, seriously. we used to shoot pool together in rangoon.
tasting and enjoying life is the only thing of value we have. all else is just marking time. you're marking time.
the pressure only comes when you let the taste slip into your mouth.
you don't run as hard, macleod. you just don't run as hard anymore.