Fletcher: Tell me it's not you, Elmer Fudd. [walks over to Metz] It's okay. Play.
[Metz plays a couple of notes; Fletcher stops him]
Fletcher: Do you think you're out of tune?
[Metz only stares at the floor]
Fletcher: What are you ... there's no ****ing Mars bar down there. What are you looking at? Look up here, look at me. Do you think you're out of tune?
Metz: [after a long, hesitant pause] Yes.
Fletcher: [yelling] THEN WHY THE **** DIDN'T YOU SAY SO?! [calmer tone] I've carried your fat ass for too long, Metz. I'm not gonna have you cost us a competition because your mind's on a ****ing Happy Meal instead of on pitch. Jackson, congratulations. You're fourth chair. Metz, why are you still sitting there? Get the **** out!
[Metz gets up and walks out out of the room]
Fletcher: [to the band] For the record, Metz wasn't out of tune. You were, Erickson, but he didn't know and that's bad enough. Alright take 10, when we get back the squeaker's on.
[Metz plays a couple of notes; Fletcher stops him]
Fletcher: Do you think you're out of tune?
[Metz only stares at the floor]
Fletcher: What are you ... there's no ****ing Mars bar down there. What are you looking at? Look up here, look at me. Do you think you're out of tune?
Metz: [after a long, hesitant pause] Yes.
Fletcher: [yelling] THEN WHY THE **** DIDN'T YOU SAY SO?! [calmer tone] I've carried your fat ass for too long, Metz. I'm not gonna have you cost us a competition because your mind's on a ****ing Happy Meal instead of on pitch. Jackson, congratulations. You're fourth chair. Metz, why are you still sitting there? Get the **** out!
[Metz gets up and walks out out of the room]
Fletcher: [to the band] For the record, Metz wasn't out of tune. You were, Erickson, but he didn't know and that's bad enough. Alright take 10, when we get back the squeaker's on.
Fletcher : Tell me it's not you, Elmer Fudd. [walks over to Metz] It's okay. Play.
[Metz plays a couple of notes; Fletcher stops him]
Fletcher : Do you think you're out of tune?
[Metz only stares at the floor]
Fletcher : What are you ... there's no ****ing Mars bar down there. What are you looking at? Look up here, look at me. Do you think you're out of tune?
Metz : [after a long, hesitant pause] Yes.
Fletcher : [yelling] THEN WHY THE **** DIDN'T YOU SAY SO?! [calmer tone] I've carried your fat ass for too long, Metz. I'm not gonna have you cost us a competition because your mind's on a ****ing Happy Meal instead of on pitch. Jackson, congratulations. You're fourth chair. Metz, why are you still sitting there? Get the **** out!
[Metz gets up and walks out out of the room]
Fletcher : [to the band] For the record, Metz wasn't out of tune. You were, Erickson, but he didn't know and that's bad enough. Alright take 10, when we get back the squeaker's on.
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