Michael: That's not our mower.
Jeff: No, it sure isn't.
Clark: HP Sauce? HP? It's the work of that ugly horrid baby Henri Petit. What kind of idiots does he take us for?
Michael: Stupid ugly baby.
Jeff: That's NOT our car.
Clark: No sirree.
Michael: What kind of threat is that? There is no threat. Just 'we want money for this car'. There's supposed to be an "OR ELSE..." isn't there?
NB. This certainly isn't our car. We have had several, and the way you can tell it's OUR car is obvious. Examples...
|Yes, yes, yes.|
|No. No sexy ladies, and impossible to see out.|
Michael: Well, that's just rude.
Clark: Yeah. As if we'd own a Trabant Limo! Hahahaha! Lime green, even! Hahaha!
Jeff: Yeah... that's just, um, ridiculous.
Michael: See you guys later!
Clark & Jeff: Whatever.
Clark: What are you doing?
Jeff: Um, nothing, just checking to see if my phone is fully charged and switched on.
Clark: I knew he'd figure that out eventually. Stupid baby.