I deal in U.S. pounds, friend. None of that faggot metric shit for me.
Bobby: (points spear gun at Danny and Jimmy) "Did you bring the plastic men?"
Bobby: "Excuse me. I don't mean to impose, but I am the Ocean."
Danny: "Oh, shit, what is this? Am I dead? Linoleum? This must be hell. Oh no, what a cliche. I've had some time to think about it and it's pretty simple after all. I think it's like the man said, "Man is the measure of all things." I should know. I ran the gamut. Tom Van Allen got his revenge. Good for Tom. And Danny Parker? He got gut-shot for being a lowlife rat. That sucks for him. As far I'm concerned, they're both dead. So who is this guy? Tell you the truth, I still don't know. But I like his chances. I really like his chances."
p.s. The Triumvirate needs to have their noodle night soon, because there hasn't been a Triumvirate noodle night since Graduation. I enjoy our Jeana/Megan/Kristin/Tony/Ray/Natalie/Ryan and Rebekah (ugh!) nights. Considering recent developments regarding the noodle party house, we need a new place to crash. As soon as we figure that out, everything will be right with the world.