What the hell do you mean "Make one for me?" You clearly don't understand the mechanics of sexual intercourse do you? What the hell is this? A drink? You're pathetic at reading my signs aren't you?
And now you're talking about money? What's wrong with you, you've hit me up with a strong drink and you don't even have the decency to come onto me? Am I ugly? Is it the ridiculous spiky hair? Because I can get rid of that!
What the FU
CK do you think? I've been tricked into thinking action was imminent... TWICE! And you have the audacity to ask me if I'm feeling alright? To answer your question, no, no I am not. I risk my ass blowing up reactors and whatnot, I come back to the supposed hideout and all I get is a drink and a are you all right? I gave you flowers for fu
cks sake, what more do you want? You're not some high class broad, you live in the slums!
I'm going down to the meeting to get some praise to make myself feel better.