Michael: What are you doing here?
Buster: The, uh... The boy was lookin' out for me.
Michael: What?
Buster: It-It's for my girlfriend. She's sick.
Gob: Why don't you just wait it out? She's gonna be gone soon. [chuckles]
Buster: Oh, that's it. [hits Gob]
Gob: Hey!
Buster: Why are you hitting yourself? Why are you hitting yourself? Why are you hitting yourself? Why are you hitting yourself?