WILL: What are you WEARING, Angie? Velvet pants and a brothel’s modesty curtain?
BRAD: Is THAT what we were yo’ing and dudeing?
WILL: Well, YEAH.
BRAD: Yo, dude, I wouldn’t have yo’d or duded that, dude.
WILL: Well, what did you think I was doing?
BRAD: I thought maybe you believed I’d just parachuted down from an aviation adventure, or blown in on a hot air balloon powered by a flying motorcycle, or something.
WILL: Well, obviously, I completely understand why you thought I would jump to that conclusion.
ANGELINA: Am I pregnant again?
BRAD: No idea.
ANGELINA: I WASN’T ASKING YOU.
WILL: Why would I know?
ANGELINA: I thought maybe you subscribed to In Touch.
WILL: Can we… can we just start this over?
WILL: Yo!… No, doesn’t feel right. I’m going inside.
BRAD: Well, I’m going to grab my cape and go for a ride on the moors with a lantern, and maybe find a headless dude.
ANGIE: Neat! I’m going to go inside and see if anybody has a copy of OK, so I can find out whether you and Jennifer are secretly having dinner when you’re CLAIMING you’re off riding on the moors with decapitated wanderers.
WILL: Backing away.