Bud: A writer?! What do you have to write about? You're not oppressed, you're not gay.
Shaun: Not all writers are gay.
Bud: Well, they are all poor. I'll tell you that.
Firefighter: What's your name?
Lance: Uh, Joe... John... uh, Joe-John.
Firefighter: Your name's Joe-John?
Lance: John-ston, Johnston. Joe.
Firefighter: You wanna tell me what happened here?
Lance: Uh, there was a fire, I dunno, I came by and it's... checkin out the fire.
Firefighter: Well that lady uh, Mona? She said that you two were in the building together when the fire started.
Lance: Yeah, she's a liar, cuz I dunno her so whatever, whatever she says is a lie, so...
Firefighter: K, so you're saying you weren't in the building with that woman?
Lance: No, not I! Aright, she started it, aright? Because she was like "I hate my job, I'm gonna burn this mother down!" And I said "You better not... you better not!"
Firefighter: She said it was an electrical fire.
Lance: It was. It was a total electrical fire, it was like uh, the switches had sparks comin out, and the sockets, and uh it was like the 4th of July, man!
Firefighter: Why aren't you wearing your pants, Joe?
Lance: I tripped, and uh then I had to take 'em off to run faster out of the flames... [coughing] I think I inhaled some smoke, will you excuse me one second, I'll be right back. [runs away in the background]
Firefighter: [into walkie talkie] We got a sprinter. Five foot five, no pants, unkempt... portly.