Ants

"You're a drone, Craig! A fucking drone!"

"What does that even mean!?"

"You do the same fucking thing as everyone fucking else! You're a drone...a god-damned drone. And everyone follows, and no one leads. You know how exterminators get rid of ant infestations? I couldn't even believe it myself when I heard how dumb those fucking drones are. The exterminators they put little pieces of poison all around the ant hill that look like food, and the dumb-ass mother-fucking drones, you know what they do? One by one by fucking one they carry that shit right to the queen. Who sure enough, stuffs her fat fucking face with that poison. And guess what happens then. Guess! When the queen ant stuffs her fat fucking face full of poison and dies, the whole colony dies. The whole colony! Every last moronic drone ant. Pheromones and shit, they can't live without the queen. Ants, they can lift ten times their own weight, but they're weak. And that's you, Craig, you're a drone ant. You're weak. You're following all those other drone ants right to your death. Right to your death."

"Pheromones, ey?"

"What are you Canadian? You god-damned heard me!"

"I did. I do. I hear you loud and clear. And I smell your whisky-shit breath, too. And I've got your halitosis-tinged spittle in my eyes, too. I hear you, and I could give a flying fuck less what you've got to say to me. What have you ever done for us, huh? What have you done different? Are you the queen in this parade of ants? These weak, moronic, ever-marching ants. Because I remember going down to the corner store and buying your fifths, and I remember buying your Newports, and I even remember going the two blocks over to South Street when you were too dopesick to get your own fix. I remember. And so does Andy, and so does Billy. And Jenny'd remember too if she wasn't strung out on that shit herself right now. And you know what else? It did kill us--it's still killin us now. But not me, not anymore. Pheromones, my ass. I'm gone."