Oscar: Hey, brother, you seem tense. Come with me to the sweat lodge. Sweat out this frustration. You can learn on this.
Narrator: And perhaps it was a sense of futility or the fact he hadn't brought a book to the desert, but George Sr. chose to enter the small, smoke-filled room, while his wife was also confined to a smoke-filled room, having found a way around both the building's strict no-smoking policy...
[Buster inhales the smoke from his mother's mouth and goes onto the balcony to exhale]
Narrator: ...and the fact that her ankle monitor prevented her from approaching the balcony.
Buster: So, anyways, I went down to the club and I- I can't- [Buster repeats] My food was gone, I could- That restaurant, typically, has a really nice maitre d' [Buster repeats] Can't really remember the host's name, but he was... He was kind of in his 60s [Buster repeats] I have to stop. I have to stop. So... But, finally, I just ordered pastrami shortcake, like I said, but I didn't order - I didn't order sprinkles this - Oh, Mother, please, please. [sobs]