(Drunk and drugged up Wille is calling Simon...)

Wille (to Simon): I've found it out. You see, everything is fake. Everything is fake. Everything in the world is fake. It's, like, you know... The grass on the football field isn't even grass. It's... it's plastic! It's like bright but at night. It's night! I know that much. But why is it bright? All the people are fake. They're made out of metal. But I like you. And that is not fake.