Simeon: You tell me exactly what you want, and I will very carefully explain to you why it cannot be.
Franklin: What?

Fabian: Namaste.
Michael: Nama-go-fuck-yourself.

Steve Haines: Those bastards love to sell drugs.
Trevor: Who doesn't?

Michael: I'm trying to relate to you.
Jimmy: No, you're trying to take me on some nostalgia trip. You're such a cliche.
Michael: Oh! says the dope-smoking, game-playing, live-at-home, world-owes-him-a-living millennial.

So Michael, this is where dead men come back to life. It's been nearly ten years. But you'll keep for another day or so huh, old friend? You motherfucking fuck! I grieved for you! You weren't even fucking dead. You were my best friend. Well guess who's coming to shit on your doorstep, you fuck!