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Whatever you do, do not wake him up in the middle of an afternoon nap. Freddie made that mistake once.
Once.
Miami, answering the phone: Hello? Roger: Miami, it's Roger Miami: *sighing* What did he do now? Roger: No, it's me. Roger. Miami: Oh. What now?
John: Miami, I have a favor Miami: I would kill for you, but go on
Miami: If you took a shot for every time you've made a bad decision, how drunk would you be? Brian: Drunk, but coherent John: wasted Freddie: shitfaced, maybe blackout Roger: dead
Freddie: I'm sorry Miami, but I can't do as you asked this time Miami: *slamming a hand on his desk* what do you mean "this time"?! You've NEVER done what I've said once since I've known you!
Roger: I don't like your accusatory tone. Miami: well, I'd use a different tone, but I'm trying to accuse you of something.
Miami: *about Queen* these four humans are all I care about in the universe
(Brian, John, and Freddie are knocking on Miami's door) Miami: What? John: We lost Roger. Can you find him? Miami: Do you think I have him microchipped or something? Freddie: Yes? Brian: Do you? Miami: Miami: yeah hang on
Miami: So..... *eyes dart between Adam Lambert and Rami Malek* You're saying you've adopted them? Brian and Roger: Yes. Miami: you've waited this long to finally make me a grandfather?
Miami: You think I like being mother hen to you all? Freddie: Brian: John: Roger: Miami: okay fine. It's like crack to me.
Miami, in his first weeks working with Queen: So who is normally in charge around here? John: it's usually whoever shouts the loudest. John: today it's Brian. He and Freddie have been fighting over Brighton Rock for three days now.
Miami: Alright. I've got a box, we're going to put everything we love in the box. Roger: Can I put John in the box? Miami: No. Freddie: Can I put John in the box? Miami: No. Brian: Can I put- Miami: NO ONE IS PUTTING JOHN IN THE BOX!
Miami: I need all of you to be straight with me here. Freddie: *chokes on his drink*
Miami: All of your songs are so odd! Bicycles and car fetishes and country music about space! Why can't you be more like Deacy? Deacy, what have you written? John, holding the lyrics to Misfire: I- I'll just go.
