Michael: ...But I can't. I have to teach George Michael how to drive. Gob: Michael if I make this comeback I'll buy you one hundred George Michael's you can teach to drive. Michael: You're losing blood aren't you? Gob: Probably. My socks are wet. Michael: I'm sorry. Gob: You'll be sorry! Wait that doesn't work after his line.
For what, Buster, huh? You're the magic. Just check out those moves you're doing, they're in their own orbit. Look at Tiagre, my girl. Don't look at her. 'Cause you look at her and, like, it affects her in a way I don't feel comfortable with. Or go for it, I don't care, whatever. I'm just saying, it's your world.