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A lot of chicks like to act all aloof and mysterious, right up until you point out that the answer to all their problems is a man. Of course, if you do that, you're probably a motherfucker.


(That was a Greek mythology joke.)

(Wednesday night, INT, EB and JH's apartment, JH entering.)

JH: You waited up.
EB: Yeah, I did. Glad to see at least one of us can follow instructions.
JH: Mm.
EB: You're actually back sooner than I expected, it's not even midnight. Sorted?
JH: I... don't know. It's complicated.
EB: Do you want to talk about it?
JH: I probably shouldn't.
EB: Y'know, Jamie, it's the twenty-first goddamn century. Girls - that is to say, women - know better than to swoon for a rebellious bad boy with a leather jacket and a mysterious broody past.
JH: O... kay.
EB: And we know better than to fall for a "project", too. Getting a broken man and thinking you can "fix" him. That's not something that women do anymore either.
JH: Uh... good.
EB: And the awkward self-conscious adorkable thing - not actually attractive!
JH: Are you under the impression that these are techniques I'm intentionally employing to be seductive? Because I assure you, they're not.
EB: I'm gonna be honest, I'm mostly talking to myself.
JH: Is it helping?
EB: ...No.
EB: Stupid sexy tall idiot.