Happy Hour

Henry: So don't worry about any of this (pointing to the "area"). From what I can tell, it's perfectly standard. Amanda: Wait, do you mean standard as in average or do you mean the standard by which all others are measured? Henry: Yes. The standard. Other "areas" whisper jealously about your "area".

Molly: Larry, it's a backpack, what's the big deal? Larry: The big deal is, I can't wear that thing. My body will reject it.

Molly: (To Amanda) Who are you? His whore? Amanda: (To Larry) I like her.

Henry: But you said she was all soft and girly. Amanda: That sounds like me. Henry: And that her eyes sparkled like champagne. Amanda: Me again. Henry: And that she had a voice like Snow White. Amanda: Okay, so freakin' me.

Tina: (addressing Larry) What a treat it must be to date you. Poor girl gets lied to and (looking at his stomach) nearly crushed in bed.

Brad: Yeah, they all stopped in the middle of a battle and ate lunch out of their "tartan-picknick-basket-backpacks"!

Larry: My friends are weak, that's why I picked them.

Amanda: (Referring to the picnic backpack) Oh, look, here's a cute little compartment for your nuts.

Henry: Hey, you and Tina are done already? That was kind of fast, don't you think? Brad: It wasn't fast, it was regular speed.

Molly: Hey, oh Brad, "A Flock Of Seagulls" called, they're going on tour and they need their lame hair back.

Larry: Hey Brad... oh... Mr. T called and he says that he pities the fool of anyone who wears a "fauxhawk" Brad: You're just jealous because it looks so rockin!