Bit of script. Bit of hero.

Carl: Look, Dusty, you're right. We're in a dangerous place. But I think it's also a solid place. What are they gonna do? They have to give you something.

Dusty: Did they make an offer?

Carl: Bottom line is: you were hurt. And while they may be able to make the case that-

Dusty: Did they make an offer?

Carl: (raises one finger as if to say "Let me finish speaking") You were hurt in an accident involving their equipment and although they might be able to make the case that there was some personal negligence involved...on your part, I think we can assume-

Dusty: I hate that word, Carl.

Carl: What?

Dusty: That word. Assume. Stupid word.

Carl: Im sorry.

Dusty: Did they make an offer?

Carl: They didn't.

(Dusty is silent for a moment, letting the news sink in.)

Carl: They did not make an offer...yet. Remember that. They still have time. And I suspect-

(Dusty raises one finger as if to say "Let me finish thinking." He paces for a moment while Carl looks on, mildly anxious)

Carl: When a flame gets low, what do you do?

Dusty: A flame? Like a campfire?

Carl: Oxygen. You fan the flame so it gets-

Dusty: Oxygen.

Carl: That's what we've got to do. Let this breathe. Oxygen.

Dusty: Oxygen.

Carl: Yeah.

Dusty: Oxygen? (sarcastic) Yeah. We're talking about oxygen. Air bullshit. Letting this shit breathe. I am living in a factory, you f...aint no air down there!

Carl: If you need a place to stay-

Dusty: No I don't need a place to stay. I need a place to live. And I need a representative who can do more than line up a couple of coincidences and pass them off as party favors...Paper flowers. (slams door)

Carl looks down at his papers and reorders them. He picks up the phone.