NORMAN BATES: Mother, I’m leaving Twitter.

NORMAN’S MOM: (sighs) And where will you go, Norman? Where will you go?

NORMAN: This is all your fault. Just like with the highway.

MOM: They’re going to drain the swamp, and they’re going to find every single one of those cars, Norman.

NORMAN: All we wanted was an edit button.

MOM: They’re going to find the cars. They’re going to know they’re not self-driving, and they’re going to know someone put them there.

NORMAN: You didn’t even want to front the money for those EV charging stations.

His mom laughs.

NORMAN: There are plenty of places to go.

MOM: Go then.

NORMAN: Artificial intelligence is not a pipedream. Why didn’t you let me go out for Robotics Club?

MOM: How many followers do you even have?

NORMAN: Plenty.

MOM: I’m not talking about bots, Norman. I’m talking about real people.

NORMAN: I have two accounts.

MOM: @Motel_Vacancies is mine. You stole that from me.

NORMAN: What about my personal account?

MOM: Who even follows your personal account?

NORMAN: There’s the girl and those copycats.

MOM: Criminals don’t count. And neither do insurance investigators or people looking for lost siblings.

NORMAN: There’s Cormac McCarthy.

MOM: Nihilist!

NORMAN: Well, I don’t get to pick who follows me.

MOM: You’re not even number one—you’re @Norman_Bates25.

NORMAN: I went with my age.

MOM: Well, how old are you now? Pushing forty I’d say.

NORMAN: I could go to Mastodon.

MOM: You could go to Mastodon. Good luck finding a community of taxidermists. No one else remembers Dinner for Schmucks.

NORMAN: You remember it.

MOM: There’s never going to be an edit button, Norman.

NORMAN: I have an interest in physics.

MOM: You have an interest in peepholes.

NORMAN: Black holes—Mother! I have an interest in black holes and event horizons.

MOM: Well, find out what happens, Norman. Go ahead. Pull. The. Plug.

NORMAN: I could start a Substack.

MOM: Do you even know how Substack works?

NORMAN: I’m sure I can figure it out.

MOM: I bet you could.

NORMAN: Start small and figure it out.

MOM: Who’s going to subscribe, Norman? You have to pay to play.

NORMAN: You know who you sound like—don’t make me say his name!

MOM: Is it the eight dollars a month that’s troubling you? You know it costs as much as a latte.

NORMAN: I don’t need to be verified, Mother.

MOM: Maybe you should do some verifying with that guestbook of yours.

NORMAN: I’ve got that handled.

MOM: I’m sure you do.

NORMAN: That’s all right, Mother. I’m here for the Discourse.

MOM: You’re a reply guy.

NORMAN: Mother!

MOM: And why would anyone want to hear your thoughts on the Jeffrey Dahmer Netflix show?

NORMAN: Mother!

MOM: What?

NORMAN: You can’t do that.

MOM: What, I can’t point out your hypocrisies? I’m your mother.

NORMAN: You don’t have to dig them up every time we talk.

MOM: I told you to quit stuffing birds, but that didn’t prevent you from going on Twitter in the first place.

NORMAN: I just don’t have the appetite for it anymore.

MOM: If you start something, you should finish it. I’ve always said that.

NORMAN: I was lonely.

MOM: We’re all lonely, Norman.

NORMAN: Maybe I could start a YouTube channel about what I want from the Batman franchise.

MOM: You going to kill the mom and dad again, Norman?

NORMAN: I’m not stunted—I’ve got new ideas.

MOM: I’m sure you do, little joker, you.

NORMAN: I do. I really do.

MOM: Origin stories are always so blasé. Maybe put your mind to something of serious merit.

NORMAN: What about Harry Potter? I could talk about the importance of having male mentors and being the protagonist in your own timeline.

MOM: I told you it takes a lot more than sitting by a window or under a staircase these days to get a person noticed.

NORMAN: Mother!

MOM: Adjust your monitor, Norman.

NORMAN: Is this really the only answer?

MOM: You yourself said the highway moved—

NORMAN: But has it really come to this?

MOM: —so I started an OnlyFans account.

NORMAN: Dear Oedipus and Jocasta.

MOM: We can’t all be J. K. Rowling. Some of us are drafted by Sophocles.

NORMAN: This isn’t fair, Mother.

MOM: Who said anything about fair?

NORMAN: I don’t understand.

MOM: It’s free speech, Norman.

NORMAN: There has to be a better way.

MOM: Buzz off or enjoy the peeping.