My take chinared.
"Max, two 'Death in the Afternoons'!", Hemingway ordered.
"Ernest, please give me your knives if we are going to drink those again tonight!", begged Scott. Ernest laughed.
"Look Scott, are you gonna whore yourself again by selling stories on the internet, too? Weren't the magazines bad enough?"
Scott turned slowly to him, "Ernest, your stories are selling well, as are your novels, I need this..."
"Scott," he said, watching the green liquid drip through the spoon, "the internet is so full of drivel and amateur wannabes, I can't stand it!" "Why put your stuff in the same company as theirs?"
"What about your Blog, Ernest,..."
"Scott, my publisher demanded an online presence so I conceded and throw him a bone, once a week. But I'm not gonna spread all my stories and such all over the internet. There is still some artistic integrity left in me...Scott you're too good for this!"
"I need this Ernest..."