He wanted to play at “mad genius;” I've got him beat at that, too. I know he’ll never concede this, but he knows that it’s true. He’s always had his family and money and food. So he gets depressed. He’s not the only one it happens to. Besides, he really had it coming.
He still thinks he’s a genius––don’t make me laugh. I do a thousand times more with half the talent he has. And I could go on forever, but then where would I be? If I point my finger, am I really just down on my knees, begging, “Fight me, fight me, please?”
And everybody asks “Is he okay?” Yeah, he’s “okay.” Apparently it doesn’t take much to be “okay” these days. I lost my temper, but it’s okay––at least it’s over now. But when they run their mouths, sometimes you gotta call them out.