Axl: Hey, don't get greasy fingers on my blankets. And I have a "no barbecue sauce" rule in my bedroom.
Frankie: We're having dinner in the dining room, Axl. If you don't like it, maybe you should take your bed to your bedroom.
Brick: No! I can't have him in my writing space. I'll never finish my second sentence. I'll be known as a one-sentence wonder.
Sue: Brick, your first sentence was amazing. I'm sure your second sentence will be amazing times amazing.
Brick: Stop. I'm under enough pressure as it is. I came out of the gate hot, and now I have to top myself? I mean, sure, you write, "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times," but then what comes after that? Ugh. My stomach is in knots.
Frankie: It might be the gas-station chicken.
Axl: This chicken's from a gas station? This is officially the worst of times.