Stan: Don't take that tone with me, kid. I'll kick your ass.
Cartman: Yah. Well, I'd like to see you try. I'm, like, 6 feet tall.
Stan: Yah. Well, you sound like a little bitch to me.
Cartman: Bitch! Don't call me bitch, bitch!
Stan: Bring it on then, bitch!
Cartman: I already brung it, bitch. I brung it, opened it, and set it on the table, bitch.
Al gore: I am Cereal!
Towlie:wontcha take me to da funkah town
The musicians: We're.. just about the money.
The other musicians: Yeah.
Kyle Loves Me// Albino.black.sheep is my accountabilabuddy! *tackle hugs*
Cartman: Will you relax, Kyle? They've got nothing on us. As long as we all stick to our story, we'll be fine.
Stan: We'd better go over our story again so we don't screw it up.
Last night, all four of us were at the bowling alley, until about 7:30 at which time we noticed Ally Sheedy, the goth chick from the breakfast club, was bowling in the lane next to us, and we asked her for her autograph, but she didn't have a pen, so we followed her out to her car, but on the way, we were accosted by five scientologists who wanted to give us all personality tests which were administered at the scientology center in Denver until 10:45, at which time we accidently boarded the wrong bus home, and ended up in Rancho de Fritas Rojes down at the Castle Rock and finally got a ride home with a man who was missing his left index finger named Gary Bushwell, arriving home at 11:46.
Kyle: I'm confused. Did Ally Sheedy take the personality test?
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