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"Wish we could muzzle mouthy mutt!" Rick grouses, grumpily grinding out one cigarette under his heel before immediately lighting another. "Why does contrary cunt have to argue about EVERYTHING?"
Nick extracts his own pack, pulling from it not a machine-turned filter-tip but a tailormade twist. "You're preachin' to the choir." he agrees, sparking spliff and inhaling deep drag, coughing out his next utterance while passing the stick to Rick " 'ere, mate, you're smokin' the wrong stuff. Let's mellow out...since THEY obviously can't."
"When they get like this..." worried words exhale along with cloying cloud in a melancholy sigh "... WE might as well not even exist."
"We get paid the same, either way." Nick philosophically opines "But I guess it IS a bit of a pisser when they waste studio time measuring dicks, since we ALL pay for THAT, and I sure as fuck don't wanna see it."
"I don't even care about the money anymore..." Rick struggles to suppress a blush, entertaining illicit image of Dave and Roger literally comparing equipment. [I'd watch that. Bet Dave's bigger.]
"Can I have your share, then?" is chokingly chortled.
"Ha ha." Shifting from sarcasm to solemnity, Rick senses soothing sensimilla smoothing splintery sensibilities, yet righteous indignation remains. "It's like he cares more about being RIGHT than about making good music."
"Yeah." Nick commiserates "He should quit picking stupid fights and just PLAY. Roger knows what He's doing, but Dave's always gotta break balls."
"DAVE?" blurts Rick, shocked. "DAVE never picks on ANYbody.." [except Him, really, but some stalwart soul SHOULD risk raging rapids to try testing treacherous, temperamental Waters] "It's ROGER who's a walking, talking nutcracker! He even LOOKS like one."
"Maybe..." Nick guffaws, finding the likeness hilariously apt. "Does that make Dave the Rat King? The Pig Prince?"
"Don't YOU call him a Pig!" Rick snaps, biting bitterly "I see whose side YOU'RE on."
"Hey, don't shoot the messenger, man." Throwing defensive palms up in the face of Rick's uncharacteristic spleen, Nick nonetheless pleads his case. "I'm not talking sides. I think they're BOTH acting like jackasses, but, you gotta admit Dave's the one who always starts shit."
"No, he doesn't!" Rick defensively insists. "He's just the only one who won't TAKE shit. Roger always has to make a fucking POINT."
"Well..." Nick suggests, sanguine, still smoking smoldering joint "He makes some great ones."
Burning to refute this, Rick finds he cannot. "I don't know why He has to be so MEAN about it."
"I don't either, but that's the price we pay for first-class passage on the gravy train."
"Well, it doesn't FEEL first-class to ME. I'm SICK of shoveling coal!" Rick's impassioned proclamation precedes hesitant inquiry "Don't you ever want to escape His cruel chain gang?"
"No." Nick quietly shares "The time AYE wanted out was before Roger took the wheel. Syd was driving me right 'round the bend, and I was about to bail, but then things got better."
"This won't." is Rick's dire prediction. "THEY won't. It's getting nastier all the time." He searches Nick's expression woefully, asking "All this fighting doesn't bother you at all?"
"Oh, it's a major pain..." allows Nick "...but at least neither one's an outright nutcase."
"I'm not so sure." Rick morbidly muses "What if they kill each other?"
"C'mon, Rick, you worry too much." Nick attempts to assuage "The worst either might do is a punch in the nose, which, frankly, they both deserve."
"You think they would stop at that..." Rick frets "...once it started?"
"Suppose it could conceivably turn into kissing." is not entirely a wisecrack. Nick doesn't usually discuss this sort of thing, but dirty jokes sometimes make Rick laugh. "Maybe gettin' their rocks off might shake the ones outta their heads, yeah?"
Far from grin or giggle for which Nick had fished, Rick looks absolutely horrified. Eyes wide above faintly quivering lips, he hangs his head and wrings his hands, unable to articulate deep distress. [NonoNO...What if they DO...? What if they are right NOW?]
[Oh, hell, what have I stepped in?] "You okay, Mister Wright?"
"Sorry." Color returns to Rick's drained features as he avoids Nick's concerned gaze. "I couldn't work with them...like that, though. I'd have to quit."
"Tell you what, old friend..." Nick confides "So would I."
"Really?"
"Better believe it." is seriously sworn, albeit through subversive smile. "With the bitching, at least SOME work still gets done, but the moaning might make me puke. THOSE two as lovers? Now, THAT's fuckin' crazy."
Rick mournfully mutters "Stranger things have happened."
"Look..." Nick decisively declares, proposing possible alliance in light of Waters/Gilmour strife. "Let's make a pact. If such an unthinkable, unmentionable eventuality DOES develop, you-n-me should run off together."
"And do WHAT?" Rick can't quite fathom what Nick might be suggesting.
"Whatever we want. Wouldn't that be a cool change?. Live lazy on the royalties for a while, work when we feel like it, and only play with easygoing HAPPY fellows."
"No high concepts or high horses? Sounds heavenly."
It does, at that. Nick almost wishes they could walk away this very minute, but... "We stick it out long as we can, but if they start duking it out...or making out... we WALK out the door and don't look back, okay?"
"You've got a deal."