Ray: You don’t know how to tell a story Art. You get lost in the details, like what people were having for lunch.
Art: I am trying to paint a picture.
Ray: Nobody cares if it doesn’t impact the story.
Collie: I hate Stebbin’s anti-climatic sneezes, it’s a lot of build up for a tiny little “Achoo”
Hank: And it’s always three or four of them in a row.
Harkness: He just likes the attention.
Peter: Barkovitch, you need to stop calling me brother.
Barkovitch: I don’t do that.
Stebbins: You do, I heard it.
Barkovitch: Maybe, but I don’t do it to sound cool, I do it cause you’re black.
Peter: *death glare*
Ray: Hank, your breath smells like farts and your farts smell like food. You need to see a doctor. And Harkness, why do you smell like sour milk?
Harkness: I ate cereal when I drove to the walk and it spilled.
Art: Collie, your voice is a smidge loud.
Collie, loudly: Well, I’m so sorry that I have an unusually loud diaphragm!
Barkovitch: *goes for a high five* that makes two of us, up top.
Collie: Get your fucking hand out of my face.
Guard: Speaking of loud, when Stebbins chews his jelly sandwiches. It sounds like he’s eating a microphone.
Ray: Aren’t you just like a guard?
Terry the Guard: Yeah, I’m Terry.
Ray: Hi Terry, shut the hell up.
