Leon: Barry. We need to talk.
Barry: Leon. What are you doing back?
Leon: Someone paged me to come back to the store. When I got here, you were gone and so were all the bottled farts.
Barry: Oh, no! Not the bottled farts.
Leon: Yes, the bottled farts. When I saw all the bottled farts were gone, I was excited. I thought you sold the bottled farts. But now it seems you lost the bottled farts.
Barry: I'd never lose the bottled farts.
Leon: Barry, do you understand that each bottled fart was ass-crafted by a third-generation fartist in Pueblo, Colorado?
Barry: So they just fart into the bottles?
Leon: Oh, it's so much more than that. Inside every bottled fart lives a child's wish. And now all those wishes have vanished, like... something in the wind.
Barry: A squeaky fart?
Leon: Damn it. No one gets it like you, Barry.