Thing-Fish:
Whiff it, Boy! Whiff it good, now! MAMMIES, step forward 'n try t'git on down wit dem BROADWAY ZOMBIES! Dis de closin' numbuh, now! MOSES! Git yo' brown ass ovuh heah! Leave de Co-log-nuh alone fo' a minnit. Whyn'tcha go on 'n cornhole ya' some EVIL PRINCE! I B'lieve he done evolved to de point where he kin hannle it now!
See dat? Uh-huh! Look like he severely enjoyin' it awready! Sound like he enjoyin' it, too! Wuh-Oh! I smells trubba! Look like he got de eeyah-noosht! Ain't no two ways about it.
'Fo y'all departs, I jes' wish to say in conclusium, as matters o' dis gravity gen'rally require some type o' philosomical post-scription, dat what y'all have witnessed heah tonight were a TRUE-STORY - only de names o' de potatoes have been changed to protect de innocent.
GALOOT CO-LOG-NUH! DON'T BUY IT, PEOPLES!
Dis have been a public service ernouncemint. Wave good-night to de white folks, 'DEWLLA!
Rhonda:
SYMBOLISM, HARRY!
Harry:
. . . not the stuff that 'Freckles' lets out!
Rhonda:
This is SYMBOLISM! Really deep, intense, thought-provoking Broadway SYMBOLISM. Really Modern, HARRY . . .
Harry:
Take your hand off that chain, honey!
Rhonda:
F*ck that briefcases . . .
Harry:
. . . not the briefcases . . .