We made a pact, Steve.
And part of that pact was that we all had tasks to perform. Stacy stole her sister's credit card and got us that great last dinner, and the car rental. Todd got the pills from the clinic where he worked. I've written most of the statement we want to leave behind for the newspaper. Your job -- your only job -- was to come up with about two hours of music to set the mood. It's not that difficult. We need something somber and beautiful. This is it, man. You really think three songs from The Joshua Tree is going to do the job?
I let that one go. And when we heard all that crap from the Garden State soundtrack, I thought about how sad you were after Lisa left you, and I figured you were too depressed to make decisions. I was ready to just say goodbye, and leave this world, even though while I died I knew I'd be thinking about that tool Zach Braff, which is really, really messed up. I told myself it was fitting, because I didn't want to live in a world that had Zach Braff in it. Anyway, I was trying to let you slide.
I was trying. But then came that song from Evanescence. Jesus, Steve. I know we've all lost our will to live. But what the hell are you thinking?
Radiohead. The National. Will Oldham. There's plenty of music to kill yourself to, Steve.
You're not even trying, and that's what's really sad. In fact -- wait... IS THAT FUCKING COLDPLAY?!
I wish the phenobarb wasn't kicking in right now, because I really want to be able to beat the crap out of you. I hate you Steve. Lisa was right to leave you. I can't die listening to "Yellow." I can't.
I am breaking out of this storage unit. I'm... doing it. Gimme the key, Stacy. Stacy? Ugh. Can't reach it. Can't... Well, that doesn't work.
"Yellow." Unbelievable. I hate this world.