Garrett was visibly peeved at being baited by the prospect of a possible lead to an exciting, newsworthy story.<br/><br/>"What the fuck do you know about news, monk?  I don't see you writing stories.  I don't see you risking your neck to deliver the goods to thousands of people.  I don't see you rolling around on the ground trying to find that one freaking word that will tie up a story completely and succinctly.  So how the fuck do you know that I'll jump like a fucking dog at something -you- consider to be newsworthy?  Look, I know it doesn't look like it, but when it comes to this shit, I am the fucking man.  When you see my name on the byline, you know that I'm going to deliver.  Why?  Because I know what's newsworthy and what isn't.  Stop treating me like a fucking dimwit.  I'm the smartest man in the room.  Hell, I might be the smartest man in this good-for-nothing, piece of shit country."<br/><br/>He then scooped a pile of intestines and put it on his head.<br/><br/>"Now if you'll excuse me, I've got to mold a crown out of intestines."