Tom: I would rather have to write papers in French on the recent evolutionary developments of sexual morality as they're reflected in literature and have them graded at the mastter's level than work at West Coast Life Insurance. But it's not easy. Despite what my girlfriend thinks. And fuck you, Ray. It's not easy for anyone to put on a goddamn happy face and speak a foreign language to total strangers, just hoping that none of them see fit to rob you of your self-esteem as well as your wallet.

Satan: Good lord. Why don't you lighten up a bit? Puff a blunt, smoke a J... I know they have that shit in Montreal.

Tom: I'm starting to feel like I've been shut up inside a terrified litttle bubble for the last three weeks. Everything is so different. I mean shit, I speak French bu there's a totally different accent here! It's like fucking Amercian English vs. British English and I can hardly even understand what THOSE fucks are saying! I can see people notice notice my temporary social retardation, but they don't really seem to care for the most part.

Satan: So why should you?

Tom: I'm FINE motherfucker!

Satan: Not as fine as a lot of the chicks here. Hoo boy. They speak French too you know.

Tom: Oh fuck off.

Satan: Do you think you've been in school for too long? Have you been fully indoctrinated now?

Tom: Whatever, man. Like I said, it beats the life insurance industry.

Satan: But you're still a company man to the bitter end.

Tom: Why don't you go suck your own dick or something? I'll bet you can do that.