Chuckie: Why didn't you give me none of that nasty little hoochie-woochie you usually throw at me?

Cathy: Oh, fuck you and your Irish curse, Chuckie. Like I'd waste my energy spreading my legs for that Tootsie Roll dick? So go home and give it a tug yourself.

Chuckie: Why didn't you have sex with me as usual?

Cathy: Oh, forget about you and your little penis, Chuckie. I wouldn't bother opening my legs to have sex with you because your penis is tiny*. So go home and masturbate.

*Tootsie Roll is the brand name of a small cylindrical American chocolate candy about one inch (2.5cm) long.

Will: Do you like apples?

Clark: Yeah.

Will: Well, I got her number. How do you like them apples?

Will: Do you like apples?

Clark: Yes.

Will: Well, I got her phone number. How do you feel about that, loser?

Chuckie: Who'd you call?

Will: No one. I forgot the number.

Morgan: You're fucking retarded. You went all the way out there in the rain and you didn't bring the number?

Will: No, it was your mother's 900 number, I just ran outta' quarters.

Morgan: Why don't we get off of mothers--I just got off of yours.

Chuckie: Who did you call?

Will: No one. I forgot the phone number.

Morgan: You are incredibly stupid. You went all the way out there in the rain and you didn't bring the number?

Will: No, it was the number for your mother's phone sex service, but I didn't have any more quarters to pay for the call.

Morgan: Why don't we stop talking about mothers. I just had sex with your mother.