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: I think we better pull over, 'cause we need some gas soon. Tommy Spinelli
: Keep fucking driving. Fern
: Didn't I tell you to watch your fucking language?
: I thought I told that little son of a bitch to stay put! Fern
: So who are you? God? Why the hell should he listen to you?
: Where's Charlie? Fern
: Who are you? Tommy Spinelli
: I asked you a question, where the fuck is Charlie? Fern
: And I asked you a question, who the *fuck* are you?
: Nana, they tortured him. Fern
: So what? A little castor oil down his gullet. Annette
: Uh! Fern
: A little electricity on his dillywhacker. Annette
: Uh! Fern
: Cat piss.
: [goes to back of van to lie down and sees head
] Oh my God! AAH! AHH! Another head! Oh my God! Help! Help! Tommy Spinelli
: Lady, lady, shut up! Annette
: I can't stand it! I'm losing my mind! Everywhere I look, there are heads! AAAAA! Tommy Spinelli
: Shut up lady, Jesus Christ! You're not the only person on the planet with problems, OK? Shut it! Jesus, what a head case. Fern
: Is that supposed to be a JOKE? Killer humor? Annette
: Looked like this guy I dated in high school, this Hugo... Hugo Porto. Eww.
[Head was actually the head of Hugo Porto