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: We wrote one last night outside the mini mart. Morris called it "Stuart Drives A Comfortable Car" and then like in country songs, you know, in parentheses it says "There's Usually Someone in the Trunk." And, and um, I came up with a tune just a hummin'. Doyle
: See, you don't want to question the genius, Vaughan. Morris here is a modern-day poet, kinda like in olden times. Morris
: Yeah, I got a new tune in composition entitled "The Thrill." And it goes somethin' like this: "I stand on the hill, not for a thrill, but for the breath of a fresh kill. Never mind the man who contemplates doin' away with license plates. He stands alone, anyhow, bakin' the cookies of discontent by the heat of the laundromat vent. Leavin' his soul!" Then like in poetry I go dot-dot-dot, you know, kinda off center, then I drop down and then I go: "Leavin' his soul! And partin' the waters of the medulla oblongata of - -brrrrrr! - -mankind!" That was a damn good song, wasn't it Doyle?
: Now get the fuck out now before I get too mad to turn back! Terence
: What about our instruments? Doyle
: Come here, you little prick. Come here, you little fucking prick!
[Wheels him right into the door
: Get out! All y'all, get the fuck out! Come on, you motherfuckers!
: Get the fuck out! Randy, you tuning son of a bitch, go fucking practice, Randy!
: Come on, Morris, you fucking genius, get the fuck up and get the fuck out of here, Goddammit!
: I don't think that's right. I believe the "Dot Dot Dot" come between "Medula" and "Oblongota".
[Morris shakes his head
: Well, it did! Morris
: The dots are where I say they are. Melody and tune, that's your trade, Terence. You're a tunesmith.