What he thinks is that it isn't good, and Ari is aghast because "it's Die Hard at Disneyland," and all the writers clap themselves on the backs because honestly, that's no sequel to The Graduate, but they so think it is. "Personally, I don't want to watch kids blowing up at Disneyland," he says. Aww. "All right, where do you want to watch them blow up?" asks Ari, hilariously. It's a serious question, for him. "Nowhere, that's the point." See, because I'm totally perfect. Eric starts to talk about how he was reading the Times, and just to clarify, that's the New York Times and not the shitty L.A. Times, because this show is a fresh new voice and boldly says what nobody else will. Ari railroads this and asks if he reads The New Republic, which of course Eric doesn't, and he says it's interesting because what it says, in fact, is that Eric doesn't "know what the fuck [you're] talking about." It's funny and a little scary because the claws are out: "The New Republic says you don't know what the fuck you're talking about!" Burn! "Mother Jones says you smell like pee!"
Eric has been living in Los Angeles for 14 months. Back in Queens, he managed an Italian restaurant. This information has been brought to you by the FYI Exposition service. Ari explains that "if I was opening a pizzeria, then you and I could work together." Ari then explains in the same neutral tone that he understands that Eric is Vince's friend and wants to protect him from making a bomb, but that while bombs don't kill careers, passing on a hit will. Which is like making a point of saying the glass is half-empty, but is also half-full, because if you pass on everything and never commit to anything, you aren't a movie star, you're Vince. Eric, just about tired of all this pizza-bashing, goes for something like the jugular but sweeter and more polite when he begs Ari not to blame him for his own inability to get his client to do what he wants. It's awesome, and it does the trick: "I resent this. I don't have dinner with people like you. I don't do it. I don't do this." He's physically angry at this point, clanging his fork against his plate. It's really quite good, this bit. If this whole show were just Eric and Ari, My Dinner with Another Stereotype, that would be awesome, because it's so, like, Art v. Commerce, Good v. Evil, Creativity v. Industry, et. al. That would be so...not TV, exactly…something like TV. I'll see if the people at HBO would be interested.