[Carl doesn't want Frylock to see the spirit of Bart Oates]
Hey Carl. What's up?
Oh crap. Hide.
Hide? From what?
From uh …
Just play it off as a joke.
...From uh, you know … black people've been runnin' around here.
… That's not really a joke Carl.
Oh c'mon man, I'm tryin'.
OK, Carl, I felt really bad about your car, so I brought you some fresh parsley and oregano from my herb garden.
Oh, great. Weeds. This will help me get to the strip club.
Where's my frickin' car?!?
Well, it's kinda been impounded.
What?!? [Carl grabs Frylock and starts drowning him in his pool] You tell me right now, Fry Man, where my frickin' car is, or I'm going to rip that paper box head of yours in half!
Whoa, whoa, whoa, easy Carl. You don't want a penalty for roughing the neighbor. I mean, that's fifteen yards and that hurts the team.
[Carl lets go of Frylock]
Whoa, whoa, whoa, hey, Carl!
It's okay, I'm not mad. OK? [angrily, but showing restraint] So, uh, where's my f-ing car, please, sir?!
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