Dewey can’t stop talking. He has some really specific quirks. Was there someone you were modeling him on?

It’s a combination of pals we all have that are totally attractive and smart, but for some reason can’t get it together or shut their trap. They’re just a diatribe of a mess, a tornado of neuroses, high-velocity patter, well-meaning spazzings, insecure on parade in a marathon.

Dear God, no! Do you understand what this means? It’s like, ‘You look great, what’s wrong with you? Stop talking!’ Ignorance is bliss. There’s just something very specific right now – and he doesn’t get it.”


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