A: That’s not what a man is. I’m a man. I drive a Dodge Stratus. I know how to fill out a 1040EZ. That’s what a man is.
B: Wow, that’s kind of a low blow. Gotta hand it to him, though. That takes some cojones. I wish I had cojones like that. You know what? I do. I can be like that. Why not? I’m gonna straighten Mr. Walsh out tomorrow. “It’s BRANT. Not Grant. Brant.” You’re god damn right it is.
C: Okay, maybe this won’t be so bad. I just don’t want us to look like assholes. We’re not assholes. We just care. And maybe LeBron will behave himself, too. Hey, maybe it’ll actually be a good game. We just have to play defense. Boobie looked good in warmups. Hey, I think Boobie and LeBron are friends. LeBron knows these guys, anyway. He’s not gonna try to show anybody up. What? Oh, fuck off, guy.
D: I just don’t understand these kids, with their gesticulations. And their Tweeters. Just play the game, buddy. I need to get home before midnight. I have letters to write. Maybe I’ll write a letter to the league office. What’s the point of all this? To waste my time? Oh god, I have so many letters to write.
E: Lampas, that’s a nice fabric. Regal. I wonder if they make whole suits out of lampas. No, that’s ridiculous. Get it together, Craig. That would be too expensive of a suit. Well, maybe that’s the point. Can you put a price on a lampas suit? I mean, can you?
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