Sasha gets the last word

Deskey, oh Deskey, how modern of you.

Modern? You mocking me?
Yes.
Why?
It's easy.
You're so sweet.
Now who's mocking?
Me.
Sure enough.
Why're you such a bitch?
Can't say for sure.
So far removed.
So it would seem.
So it would be.
Clever. Turning the words like that.
You would know about that. Turning things.
Tricks, you mean? Yeah.
What? No, words.
Those too.
You're so full of it.
Ouch, love.
True. You act like you don't care, that you're so worldly and experienced and twice-removed, but you're the most involved, thinking, coniving, actor, I know.
Excuse me?
You act like nothing hurts, nothing matters, like it's all some huge joke and you're the only one in on it. It's not true. You hurt, you cry, you do this so no one will see it.
How insightful of you, darling.
How modern of you.
You think you know? Who I am?
Yes! Yes, I do.
You think because you're here now, with me, when no one else is, that because I let you stay, remember your details, that somehow you have this 'in' and you get me?
Yeah, that's what I think.
How arrogant.
You're one to talk about arrogance. You sit there all high and mighty and untouchable, pretending you're better than all of us.
Am I not?
Are you kidding?
Rarely.
Shut up.
There's nothing to be done about it.
You aren't so hard. You know that? You get soft. I've seen you tear up and turn away. I didn't say it, but I've made you cry. It's that much more of a power trip when I do. Because you pretend no one can do it to you.
Shut up.