Carl: A janitor? FIND THE **** FOLDER! A **** JANITOR?! YOU’RE A DUMB ****! A DUMB ****!!!!
Fletcher: Jesus **** Christ, where have you been?
Carl: We have an issue.
Fletcher: Okay, now is not the time.
Carl: I gave Neiman the folder and Neiman lost it.
Fletcher: Neiman lost it?
Carl: Yes.
Fletcher: The folder is your **** responsibility, Tanner. Why would you give it to Neiman? Right? You give a calculator to a **** **** he's gonna try to turn on a TV with it. Now get your sticks and get your ass on stage.
Carl: I-- I can't.
Fletcher: You can't?
Carl: I-- I can't go onstage. I don't know the charts by heart.
Fletcher: Are you **** kidding me?
Carl: I-- [stammers] You know this. I need the music. It's my memory, I need visual cues.
Fletcher: Visual cues?
Carl: Yes, it's a medical condition--
Fletcher: A medical condition? What are you, **** Sanjay Gupta? Play the goddamn music.
Carl: I can't.
Andrew: I can.
Fletcher: You know "Whiplash" by heart?
Andrew: Yes, sir. Every measure.
Fletcher: All right. Well, you better **** hope your memory doesn't fail you. And I hope you play it a whole lot better than you did last month in rehearsal, because I do not intend to start losing now. Get your sticks and get your sticks and get your **** ass onstage. [to band] Onstage!
Fletcher: Jesus **** Christ, where have you been?
Carl: We have an issue.
Fletcher: Okay, now is not the time.
Carl: I gave Neiman the folder and Neiman lost it.
Fletcher: Neiman lost it?
Carl: Yes.
Fletcher: The folder is your **** responsibility, Tanner. Why would you give it to Neiman? Right? You give a calculator to a **** **** he's gonna try to turn on a TV with it. Now get your sticks and get your ass on stage.
Carl: I-- I can't.
Fletcher: You can't?
Carl: I-- I can't go onstage. I don't know the charts by heart.
Fletcher: Are you **** kidding me?
Carl: I-- [stammers] You know this. I need the music. It's my memory, I need visual cues.
Fletcher: Visual cues?
Carl: Yes, it's a medical condition--
Fletcher: A medical condition? What are you, **** Sanjay Gupta? Play the goddamn music.
Carl: I can't.
Andrew: I can.
Fletcher: You know "Whiplash" by heart?
Andrew: Yes, sir. Every measure.
Fletcher: All right. Well, you better **** hope your memory doesn't fail you. And I hope you play it a whole lot better than you did last month in rehearsal, because I do not intend to start losing now. Get your sticks and get your sticks and get your **** ass onstage. [to band] Onstage!
Carl : A janitor? FIND THE **** FOLDER! A **** JANITOR?! YOU’RE A DUMB ****! A DUMB ****!!!!
Fletcher : Jesus **** Christ, where have you been?
Carl : We have an issue.
Fletcher : Okay, now is not the time.
Carl : I gave Neiman the folder and Neiman lost it.
Fletcher : Neiman lost it?
Carl : Yes.
Fletcher : The folder is your **** responsibility, Tanner. Why would you give it to Neiman? Right? You give a calculator to a **** **** he's gonna try to turn on a TV with it. Now get your sticks and get your ass on stage.
Carl : I-- I can't.
Fletcher : You can't?
Carl : I-- I can't go onstage. I don't know the charts by heart.
Fletcher : Are you **** kidding me?
Carl : I-- [stammers] You know this. I need the music. It's my memory, I need visual cues.
Fletcher : Visual cues?
Carl : Yes, it's a medical condition--
Fletcher : A medical condition? What are you, **** Sanjay Gupta? Play the goddamn music.
Carl : I can't.
Andrew : I can.
Fletcher : You know "Whiplash" by heart?
Andrew : Yes, sir. Every measure.
Fletcher : All right. Well, you better **** hope your memory doesn't fail you. And I hope you play it a whole lot better than you did last month in rehearsal, because I do not intend to start losing now. Get your sticks and get your sticks and get your **** ass onstage. [to band] Onstage!
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