Steve: Hey Lucas, ready for yet another night of insolent vagrancy?

Lucas: Yeah, I can't wait to stay out past ten o'clock doing all those bad things we like to do, like wearing scary clothes and making loud noises in restaurants. Do you know what I'm not ready to do?

Steve: What?

Lucas: Honorably serve my country by enlisting in the US Army, thus establishing a good reputation for our generation.

Steve: Yeah, I'd much rather lie around playing computer.

Lucas: Computer is my church.

Trey: *Incomprehensible babble*

Lucas: Look, it's our colored friend, Trey, the one who got into an Ivy League university through some crazy mistake.

Steve: He's still better than our stingy Dutch friend, who'll probably euthanize Pop-Pop while he is sleeping.

Lucas: Those Dutch are the worst.

Amber: Hey fellas.

Lucas: Oh, it's that one girl who is always with us. The one who purposely eats phallic foods around your grandpa to make him angry.

Steve: Good thing she's wearing such a small tank top, because it will be hot in hell. That soulless strumpet.

Amber: Steve, just curious, is it just a coincidence that your grandmother died the week we met? Or did I just direct all my hussy powers into one big voodoo spell?

Trey: *Incomprehensible babble*

Lucas: Haha, good one, Trey.

Steve: You know, maybe Trey's right. Maybe we are too loud, too aerodynamic, and too whorish. Perhaps The Man with the Golden Arm really is the greatest movie ever. I say that tomorrow we all wake up before dinnertime, for once, and lead respectable lives.

Amber: We totally should.

Steve: Shut up, harlot, you're always wrong.