Mikhail Gorbachev: Let's take one thing at a time.
John Olson: Sweet deal, smart move. This rules.
Gorbachev: It wasn't a small group, about 200 people.
Olson: Lowest turn out for a gig yet.
Gorbachev: The people were confused.
Olson: No intros, nothing. Barely able to function. Whatever.
Gorbachev: Unfortunately there was some bloodshed, after all.
Olson: Worst case scenario.
Gorbachev: You had to go outside.
Olson: Lots of dead bugs on the windows.
Gorbachev: Each of them had it made.
Olson: The connection is made. Weird. After the intros of the gongs we smell a huge cloud of weed drift onstage so killer we feel the love. I eye him in the alley but am too shy to say anything.
Gorbachev: He should have been shunted out of the way and made an ambassador in a banana republic, where he could have smoked water pipes in peace. But I shouldn't have gone away. You have to seek dialogue until the end.
Olson: Gross. How do people live there?
Gorbachev: Do you have to ask me that?
Olson: "It just feels right," I say.
Gorbachev: I don't know. Why?
Olson: Lots of security.