Character: JONAS, 30s, white collar, strung out, on the run
JONAS: You want to know what I think?
I think you are crazy. Not need a few Prozacs crazy, but full on bat shit crazy. I think you wander about, terrorizing guys with your talk of Armageddon and the end of the world and Hell and all that, and people get suckered in. That's what I think.
You’re crazy.
I thought you looked familiar! Weren't you in a bar near Milwaukee? Or didn't I meet you at that crappy Hotel Six outside of Omaha? Or maybe it was at the pool hall in Arizona. Let me guess, I was drunk, you were easy. And I told you my life story, and I guess I don't remember. How I was miserable from these nightmares. And you listened, bored out of your mind, but you had nothing else going on that night. Or maybe you liked me, who knows? Either way, we went to bed together and the next morning I was gone. And you devised a plan for revenge and torture. Hell hath no fury like a scorned woman, right?
