"Where the hell am I?" He raised his chin and saw a huge three-hundred-tonne crane that was squeaking slowly as it lifted a section of the ship. The morning sun winked through the thick steel cables.
"I mean, really…fuck this movie!" He turned around but there was no one there. "Where’s Robi when I need him most? He totally fucked me over with this documentary! Stupid jerk!" He slowly walked towards the changing room.
"I mean, it was different when that Cobain asshole killed himself. Who gives a fuck! He didn’t know how to deal with the fame so he killed himself! As if he had real issues!? What are we supposed to do? They’re going to shut us down! Go suck my dick, asshole! Good thing you shot yourself cuz otherwise I would have! Idiot! But this…this is something else altogether! People dropping like flies! AIDS, heart attacks, cancer…Fuck! Death is all around!"
"What’s going on, Mali?" Dule from pre-assembly caught up to him.
"Nothing…I didn’t sleep well. I got up at 3 a.m. to take a leak and I couldn’t get back to sleep until 5."
"Problems, eh? I know, I know…we could all lose our jobs. It’s not easy. But why do you care so much? You’re young! You’ll easily find a new job! You’ve got nothing to worry about! Take a look at me! I’m an old fart. I’m supposed to go into retirement in a couple of years. Who’s going to hire me if we lose our jobs? Damn…it’s fucked up."
They walked side by side.
"Have you ever thought about death? I mean, about the fact that you’re going to die one day?"
Dule looked at him.
"Oh Mali, Mali…there are worse things than death. You’ll see." He sped up.