Rory: Okay, please take this the way it's intended, but I am going to kick Dave in the shins repeatedly for the next hour and a half.
Lane: Why?
Rory: Why? Did you hear the way he was talking to you? "Play like a guy, Lane." Well, cry like a girl, Dave! What? Why are you smiling like that?
Lane: He fooled you.
Rory: What?
Lane: We thought the other guys might be catching on about me and Dave so we came up with this plan.
Rory: That he become a jerk?
Lane: Yes. If the other guys see him talking down to me like that, they will totally be thrown off track.
Rory: Okay, but doesn't it bother you to hear him talk to you like that?
Lane: No way. Believe me, he knows I play better, harder, Moonier than any guy they could possibly find, plus I smell better.
Rory: Okay, as long as you're fine with it.
Lane: I am, I'm fine with it.
Dave: And also Lane, I need four strong downbeats, not two strong ones and two whatever ones. You set the tone, Lane. If you suck, we suck.
Lane: [to Rory] God, he's wonderful.