Hydrogen: Mamas, don't let your babies grow up to be shirtless, retarded cowboys.
Trillaphon: Ray Dennis Steckler is famous for his portrayal of bleak pastoral landscapes and stoic gay cowboys.
Hydrogen: If that was actually true, he'd have like 19 Sundance awards.
Trillaphon: Don't you go in that old house, the Chooper will get you!
Hydrogen: Oh, okay, thanks. Well, I'm going over to the old house then.
Trillaphon: Old house?! Don't you go in there, that's where the Chooper lives! He'll get you!
Hydrogen: The Chooper, huh? Whew, that was a close one. Okay, I'm off to the old house, see you later! *dies*
Trillaphon: I WARNED YOU ABOUT THE CHOOPER AND HIS PATTERN OF GETTING PEOPLE! I WARNED YOU!
Hydrogen: So was that the power of the evil Chooper that blew his hat off during the big "Chooper house" soliloquy at the end, or were the forces of nature just actively trying to sabotage the production?
Trillaphon: You just can't leave a performance that electrifying on the cutting-room floor, falling hats be damned.
Hydrogen: Certainly not, especially if you only sprung for 60 minutes worth of film.
Simply put, if I had Johnny Manziel’s physical gifts, you better believe I would be there in the Weight Room, getting to bed early, doing whatever I had to do to be the best possible athlete I could be. I wouldn't be posting on social media about sucking titties. I wouldn't even look at a titty, buddy. I'd look at a titty and see two big footballs.
A real friend doesn't move until the middle of August, ensuring temperatures in the 90s and a humidity that turns boxers into moist balls of ruined cotton.
Expendable? You must be joking.
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