Reenactor 2: [Has taken acid] Their spirits are dancing all around us, popping and locking mostly.
Stan: That's my...neighbor's son.
Stan: Steve, serenade me.
Steve: Oh-ho, ho, say, can you see-hee-hee-hee, hee
Stan: Steven, what the hell? Did you just watch The Wiz or something?
Roger: So, Stan, I tried to order Barbra does Celine On pay-per-view, but it was locked. I need the code.
Stan: How much is it?
Roger: It's priceless, But to order it, it's four ninety nine.
Stan: I guess we can add five more bucks to your tab.
Roger: [laughing] $5? For Barbra does Celine? No! Oh, no, ridiculous. No, $499 dollars. Streisand comes expensive or she doesn't come at all.
Stan: Forget it! I wouldn't pay that much to see Barbra do Celine. Or would I? Maybe if I was in the room with them, peeking from behind the curtain, and they didn't know I was there. How would it appear on my credit card bill? No, no, Stan, focus.
Hayley: So, how'd the big night turn out?
Roger: It was...there's no word to describe it. Schmooblydong? That's not it, but it's close. Let-let me try and put it in terms you can understand. Imagine being high at a Rusted Root concert While two dudes take you on in a sun-baked porta-john.
Hayley: Heh, Wow! That actually does sound really good.