Hey, Neegs? Um... We got a problem. I told him to kibosh that shit. Said you gave the order, but you know he don't listen to me. I mean, you know, I'm not gonna say I told you so. I'm not that kind of guy, but certain folks, a lot of folks are saying it's time to rein his ass in. Invest more authority in, you know, someone not unlike...
Simon
Croat: Negan, we did it. The girl, she confessed. She was sent by the King, exactly like we--
Simon: He said to let her walk! He gave a direct order.
Croat: Negan, you know, these things... my process, it takes time.
Simon: Your process?
Croat: Yes, Simon, my process. Who determined the location of the hidden arms cache at the Hilltop?
Simon: I would've found that shit.
Croat: Oh, really? Your keen sense of observation. Your emotional intelligence.
Simon: Emoti-blah, blah, blah, this is what I'm talking about, Negan. Usin' these highfalutin words to cover up what we all know you really are. A Slavic, psychopathic nutjob.
Croat: Oh my god, I refuse to participate in these childish conversations. Simon: Kids... KIDS .. is a line we do not cross. We all know that.
Negan: Enough.
Croat: Buraz, I know you understand. We had to be sure.
