“Goddammit, you little prick! What did you do?”
The picture’s just turned a little. I can–
“You can fuck up! That’s all! You can fuck up and massage your crotch, that’s all you’re good for.”
No need for that, Phil.
“The whole restaurant’s 90 degrees off! The oil from the deep fryer spilled on three of the Busboys!”
Oh, no. Are they okay?
“Jill shot them.”
“We’re running a business here, dickface. No room in the budget for skin grafts.”
“DAAAAAAD!? WHY IS THE WALL THE FLOOR NOW?”
“Oh, great. Are you happy? You scared Grahame!”
I can fix this.
“They should’ve fixed your mother, suckjob.”