Dick: Harry! Son, look what I brought home for us. It's a six-pack of tall boys. Let's say we get faced and then I'll give you my belt.
Harry: Forget it, man.
Dick: What's this?
Harry: I'm cutting out. I'm blowing this joint. I'm taking some powder.
Dick: You're leaving? You can't leave.
Harry: Oh, face it, Dick. I have no purpose here.
Dick: Harry, I'll find you a purpose. I'll set up a meeting for you with the campus job counselor.
Harry: That's your world, man, not mine. See, I'm rejecting all that "9-to-5, make a living, become a success, feel good about yourself" crap. That's a sucker's game, man. Well, color me gone.