- Henchwoman: [points to rock] Um, no weapons.
- Psychs: Excuse me, sir, but I think you are confused. My date and I have a reservation.
- Henchwoman: Wait, what?
- Psychs: [to rock] What do you mean she's your date?
- [sadly hands rock over, to Henchwoman]
- Psychs: If you so much as look at her the wrong way...
- Ruckus: ...And you just let them walk right in! Now how am I supposed to let that slide?
- Fired Henchman: B-but Ruckus, I told you I can't see!
- Ruckus: All I ever hear from you is excuses. "Ruckus, I can't see!" "Ruckus, I'm blind!" "Ruckus, the Sun!" Bitch, I gave you binoculars!
- Lance 'Uppercut' Wilkins: I was wondering if you might have anything that could get rid of ghosts.
- Tiny Tie: Mmmm, oh yeah, I got something real nice for that, mm-hm.
- Lance 'Uppercut' Wilkins: Great! What is it?
- Tiny Tie: How's about we work out a little deal.
- [Rubs lotion all over his hands]
- Tiny Tie: Just let me, hhmm, touch on ya.
- Psychs: Sir, if you could just answer the question.
- Rude Rando: You dumbass. Ain't no such things as ghosts. Piss off! I'm sure your daddy is real proud of you.
- [Slams door on Psychs. Psychs walks down then walks back up again and knocks on door]
- Rude Rando: What the hell's the matter with you boy? I told you to piss off! You lookin' for a fight?
- Psychs: [wide psychotic grin] Ohhhh yeah.
- Luddite: Throw Lud-Duh, all things are knowable.
- Lance 'Uppercut' Wilkins: Yeah, that sentence doesn't sound right.
- Luddite: First, a sacrifice must be offered.
- Lance 'Uppercut' Wilkins: Oh yeah, here.
- [Hands Luddite batteries]
- Luddite: [gasps] Demon turds!
- Eve: Lance! Your name has been whispered to me through the vibrations!
- Lance 'Uppercut' Wilkins: Who the fuck said that!
- Psychs: It's the call of the Future Potato!
- Lance 'Uppercut' Wilkins: NOT a Potato.
- Eve: Yes!
- [Eve grabs Lance by the arm, emerging from a pile of clothing]
- Eve: The future potato echoes now! Crashing to the earth with immense power!
- Psychs: Hi.
- Eve: A Glorious Day to you! I am Eve! Sent at the behest of the greasy one! Your "future potato" speaks in a vibrant incandescent voice, crying for guidance!
- Psychs: Who's the idiot now, Mr. Smarty Pants? That's right! Your pants are smarter than the rest of you, I finally said it!