The Elder
A plum does not resent the hungry man, but the farmer who planted the tree.
He resents the... resents the farmer?
So how do plums have **** resentments now?
Oh. So it can resent?
The Elder
Listen. The White Death is the farmer.
So we're the plums. We're the plums?
It don't make sense! Why are you mother****ers using metaphors? Look, HE SHOT MY BROTHER!
The Elder
YOU SHOT MY SON! [pause, calmly] We prepare together, or we die alone.
That's... all I was trying to say.
