George: So, assessing the situation. Is it breathing?
Lewis: No, George. It's not breathing. And it has no arms or legs.
George: No, that’s not part of it—
Lewis: Where is it? You know what? If we come across somebody with no arms or legs do we bother resuscitating them? I mean, what kind of quality of life do we have there?
Lance: I would want to live with no legs.
Esteban: How about no arms? No arms or legs is basically how you exist right now, Lance. You don’t do anything.
George: All right, well, lets get back to it. ‘Cause you’re losing him.
Lewis: *pumps frantically*
George: Okay, too fast. Everyone, we need to pump at a pace of a 100 beats per minute.
Lewis: Okay, that’s uh, hard to keep track. How many is that per hour?
Charles: How’s that gonna help you?
Lewis: I will divide and then count to it.
Charles: Right.
George: Okay. Well, a good trick is to pump to the tune of ‘Staying Alive’ by the Bee Gees. Do you know that song?
Lewis: Yes, yes I do. I love that song. *clears throat, begins to sing* First I was afraid, I was petrified.
what i am happy about is the fact all drivers seem to have someone to lean on to. One they feel comfortable with. Comfortable enough to be themselves, without fear of ridicule. To share their experience with.
"Theyre not friends, theyre competitors." Or "they hate each other." Is an agenda I heard too often.
But please, outside of the race, theyre all messing around with each other. And thats not acting, I see you.