Next, I'll have this thing so far up your ass, your tonsils will be playing shadow puppets.

You look like you struggle with simple tasks.

Floyd: You gotta go, both of you. My girlfriend, she'd kill me if she knew I had guests.
Trevor: Not much of a girlfriend if she don't like your family. Now would you get me a fucking drink? I'm not gonna ask you again!

They damaged my stuff. They smash up my home. Damage my soul. Look at this... This, this, this, this statue here of Impotent Rage. This fucking meant more to me than Johnny K meant to anyone! And they smashed it! Those pathetic, midlife crisis, hog-riding, shaven-headed, fruity leather-chap-wearing fucking assholes!

Now go! I need to meditate. Or masturbate. Or both.