— We found the case. According to someone, the murderer has the case, and we found it in the hands of our favourite psychopath.
— Not a psychopath, I'm a high-functioning sociopath. Do your research.
— No way. That's my Division Championship soccer trophy! I can't believe he kept this.
— Yeah, it's probably the closest you ever came to being a boy.
I got a jar of dirt! I got a jar of dirt! And guess what's inside it?
— You know why?
— No.
— Orders. Now, you do know what orders is, right?
— I think I got the concept.
— Orders is orders.
— So I guess no one ever taught you not to use the word you're defining in the definition.
— You remember Cinderella? The pumpkin that turns into a coach and the mice that become horses?
— Dude! Could you be more gay? Don't answer that.
— Have you been sick? You've lost weight.
— Really? Whatever weight I lost, you found, pal.
Only a short time ago, I learned that people laughed at me. Now I can see that unknowingly I joined them in laughing at myself. That hurts the most.
Don't pin this on Christ, he's got enough nails in him.
— Darn it, we're all out of milk.
— Chandler, will you fill me up here?
Lenny, take this to Snow White and the three little chemists; they should have a gander at this.
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