NICOLAS CAGE: What ho, whippersnapper.
JAY BARUCHEL: ‘sup, dude.
NICOLAS: You have much to learn, my young apprentice.
JAY: How so?
NICOLAS: I appreciate your attempts to emulate my goatee and royal sideburns. However, as I have clearly demonstrated in the past, fullness of coif is a no-no.
JAY: I can’t help it if my…
NICOLAS: You may grow it bountiful and fulgent behind your head, but up top, it should be stately, slicked back — as if your forehead has a secret it is dying to tell.
JAY: That doesn’t even make sense.
NICOLAS: And you must NEVER out-shrub your Master. Does a peacock flaunt its plumage at its flock elders?
NICOLAS: Did young Skywalker brag to Yoda about his height? To Obi-Wan about his bangs? To Darth Vader about his working lungs?
JAY: Maybe off-camera…
NICOLAS: Meanwhile, your neck jewelry is merely an able attempt.
JAY: You mean… my sunglasses? I just hooked them here for storage purposes.
NICOLAS: They prevent you from opening your shirt, hinting at the baby-fine carpet thereunder.
JAY: Well, I…
NICOLAS: It is a good thing, my young apprentice, that you have your career being the Mac guy to fall back on while I train you further.
JAY: Yeah, that’s not me. That’s the other dude with the half-hearted facial hair.
NICOLAS: … Oh. Well, maybe HE would listen to me about hair. After all, friend, there is no Mac without a Mac Daddy.
JAY: Sure, Nic. Whatever.
NICOLAS: Peace out, son.