JERVIS: (humming to himself, stops) You needn’t stand in the doorway, Edward. I smelt
that godawful cologne of yours from the end of the hall.

EDWARD: Pleasant as always, Jervis.

JERVIS: Extending courtesy to those who do not warrant or reciprocate is a fool’s
errand. You of all people should know this.

EDWARD: Goodness, a coherent sentence! Quite a change from the nonsense you
were spouting when they dragged you in here.

JERVIS: Spouting, yes, but not nonsense. The smile is still here… eyes of flame watching from shadows. Snicker-snack will go the bones and no one but I knows who will walk, who will crawl, and who will die.

EDWARD: You really have lost all the marbles, haven’t you?

JERVIS: What a fascinating tone with which you say that, Edward, speaking as though
you observe me from the other side of the looking glass, but still we watch the world
turn through wilked shars. Committed. Caged. Crazy. Tea?

EDWARD: From you? Never.

JERVIS: Your loss. Now then, then now, now then then, what do you want? I’m a busy
man, Edward. Busy busy busy.

EDWARD: You certainly have been.

(JERVIS hums through it, pretending not to hear)

EDWARD: I had just always suspected hats to be your only MO, but what is a collar but
a hat for your neck? Wow… that sounded so much better in my head.

JERVIS: I’m sure I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.

EDWARD: And I suppose the name Lucenzo Valentino means nothing to you.

JERVIS: Should it?

EDWARD: Cut the shit, Jervis. You left your bloody ten schilling and sixpence mark on
every one of them. Vainglorious fool that you are.

JERVIS: So sayeth Emperor Punctus Interrogativus.

EDWARD: Augh, you’re even more insufferable when you’re lucid.

JERVIS: Sticks and stones.

EDWARD: Will be the least of your worries if you don’t tell me why you were working
with Valentino.

JERVIS: I was… promised… things. Things you wouldn’t understand.

EDWARD: Like. What.

JERVIS: Love.

EDWARD: Oh, Jesus CHRIST, Jervis! Alice isn’t yours. She never was, you deluded little man! How many more people have to die before you’ll realise that? What was the plan? Lure her to the farm and have her lobotomised by the illustrious Professor Pyg? Makes sense, considering she’d have to have half a mind to even want to be in the same ROOM as you.

JERVIS: I told you, you wouldn’t understand.

EDWARD: Do you know what you are? You’re a WORM, Tetch. A wriggling little worm.

JERVIS: Spoken like a true snake, Edward.

EDWARD: I should have killed you when I had the chance.

JERVIS: And I you, Edward.

EDWARD: This isn’t over, Jervis. Not by a long shot.

JERVIS: Callooh to that, and a Callay for both of us! We walk on numbered days, Edward. Perhaps one shall help the other to their end. Perhaps not.

(EDWARD leaves in anger, slamming the door)

JERVIS: …and the mome raths outgrabe.