Kevin: It's not a fucking hotel. Someone just tried to kill me.
Virgil: Oh.
Kevin: Oh?!
Virgil: Well, it makes sense. It's a pitfall of your chosen occupation.
Kevin: Which is what?
Virgil: Look at the way you're dressed man. You're an international assassin.
Kevin: Are you fucking serious?
Virgil: That is why you checked into the hotel, isn't it?
Kevin: I didn't check into the hotel. I, I drank that shit that you gave me and then I woke up in a bathtub.
Virgil: OK, Kevin, you have to stop thinking in such straight lines, because she surely will not be. She thinks in spirals and helixes and zig zags and circles.
Kevin: Patti?
Virgil: Your target.
