I look at you, David, I don’t see an intelligent, confident man. I see a cocky, scared-shitless script kiddie. But you’re a genius, David. No one denies that.

I look at you, David, I don’t see an intelligent, confident man. I see a cocky, scared-shitless script kiddie. But you’re a genius, David. No one denies that. No one could possibly understand the depths of you. But you presume to know everything about me because you saw a program of mine, you ripped my fucking life apart. You’re a co-founder, right? Do you think I’d know the first thing about how hard your life has been, how you feel, who you are because I read a pitch deck? Does that encapsulate you? Personally, I don’t give a shit about all that, because you know what? I can’t learn anything from you that I can’t read in some fucking powerpoint. Unless you want to talk about you. Who you are. And I’m fascinated. I’m in. But you don’t want to do that, do you, sport? You’re terrified of what you might say. Your move, chief.