Who's he [Alan] listening to?
Bucket of Hate.
They're good. Reminds me of early Who.
Who?
Yeah.
What?
Band called "Who".
Bucket of Hate.
[Charlie and Jake have snuck in through Jake's window and Alan has found them.]
[to Jake] Do you have any idea how much trouble you're in?
I do not. Do you have any idea how beautiful you look in that light?
I'm not talking to you.
Yeah, well, I'm not talking to you either, except for right now, this is me talking to you, but, no longer. [makes pop sound]
Would you please just... go to sleep?
Okey-dokey. [grabs pillow and goes out of view]
Alan [to Jake]: You and I have some talking to do.
Will you make up your freaking mind?
[Charlie is hungover and still lying in bed.]
Charlie, wake up. You need to see this.
Can I throw up in it?
No.
Then I don't need to see it.
[Jake tries to sneak out of his bedroom window at Judith's house]
Where are we going?
You're going back to your room. And I'm going back to the sweet land of vindication.
I came to apologize. I am sorry about last night.
You're sorry? For ruining one of the most important nights of my career? For embarrassing me within an inch of my life?
Ooh, yeah! I mean, unless I did something else.
No, you did quite enough, thank you.
Look, I understand why you're mad, but it really wasn't my fault. I was nervous about last night so my mother gave me what I assumed was one of her tranquilizers. But now I'm thinking it was a little something she had left over from Woodstock.
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