Will: What's up, G?
Geoffrey: Oh, Master William. I'm glad you're here. What kind of bike do you think Frederick would like? Mountain or racing?
Will: We gotta talk, G.
Geoffrey: You think I'm spoiling him, don't you?
Will: I think that ship has sailed. Look, G, what I'm about to say is gonna hurt you. It's gonna hurt you bad, but I'm gonna just cut to the chase. Because I'm about to practically annihilate you. All right? But I'm gonna get right to it. All right? Because this is gonna sting real, real bad. I ain't doing no pussy-footing around-
Geoffrey: Master William hurt me already.
Will: All right, G, Frederick is not what he appears to be. He stole from me. He stole from you. He's on a plane back to England with no intention of going to butler school. And you're never gonna see him again.
Geoffrey: Hello, Frederick.
Will: Three out of four ain't bad.