(the gang is speculating about the stranger in the bar)
Woody: Well, he's probably , uh, a writer or a poet or something.
Diane: Oh, that's very good. What do you think he's writing, Woody?
Woody: Well, I hope he's not writing about a boy and his dog who roam through the countryside doing good deeds and drinkin' beer.
Woody: 'Cause that's the story I'm writin'.