Alferd Packer:
Come on, we can just walk around it. It can't be that big.

Alferd Packer:
The sky is blue and all the leaves are green. My heart's as full as a baked potato. I think I know precisely what I mean when I say it's a schpedoinkal day.

Alferd Packer:
The sky is blue and all the leaves are green. My heart's as warm as a baked potato. I think I know precisely what I mean, when I say it's a SHPADOINKLE day!

Alferd Packer:
And then I ran and ran as fast as I could.

Polly Pry:
But you made it out, right?

Alferd Packer:
Yeah, I hid in Wyoming for a while. I should have let them kill me.

Polly Pry:
Why?

Alferd Packer:
You ever been to Wyoming.

Alferd Packer:
Uh, hello?

Polly Pry:
Oh my God! It sounds horrible!

Alferd Packer:
Your eyes, your smile, made my little life worthwhile. The sky was a lot more blue when I was on top of you.

James Humphrey:
Hey! You're cutting into his butt!

Frank Miller:
Well what sort of meat do you want?

James Humphrey:
Well not butt!

George Noon:
I know there's more to life then women. I just can't figure out what else there is. I don't need it every night, every morning'd be just fine. A little sex, that's all I'm asking for.

Alferd Packer:
...But that's not how it happened...

Frank Miller:
You son of a bitch Humphrey!

James Humphrey:
Oh c'mon, you haven't even tried it yet!

Frank Miller:
You son of a bitch Humphrey!

Israel Swan:
If you don't find a nice girl in Colorado, just remember, there's plenty of mountain sheep.

George Noon:
How big of mountain sheep?

James Humphrey:
Miller!

Frank Miller:
What?

James Humphrey:
You cut the butt!

Frank Miller:
Well what part do you want?

James Humphrey:
Well... not butt!

James Humphrey:
Fudge, Packer?

George Noon:
Oh, stop!

James Humphrey:
That's sick!

Frenchy Cabazon:
I agree! Nutter was singing in the wrong key!

Preston Nutter:
No I wasn't! It was Loutzenheiser! I was singing in E flat minor.

Frenchy Cabazon:
The SONG'S in F sharp major!

Shannon Bell:
I think they're the same thing. I mean, E flat is the relative major of F sharp.

Frenchy Cabazon:
No it isn't! The relative minor is three half-tones DOWN from the major, not up!

George Noon:
No, it's three down. Like A is the relative minor of C major.

O.D. Loutzenheiser:
But isn't A sharp in C major?

Shannon Bell:
Wait, are you singing mixolydian scales or something?

Frank Miller:
A horse is a horse.

James Humphrey:
Of course.

Alferd Packer:
Of course.

Frank Miller:
What part do we eat?

James Humphrey:
Well, you're the butcher.

Frank Miller:
Yeah, but...

James Humphrey:
So, butch!

James Humphrey:
can't think, can't move can't speak in complete sentences.

Israel Swan:
Maybe we'll all get really sick. And maybe we'll all die... Sooooooooooooo, let's build a snowman

Alferd Packer:
She didn't just take off. We're friends, and friends don't just take off.

James Humphrey:
'Are there any more big rivers between here and Breckenridge?' 'Oh no, just the Colorado!' THE BIGGEST FUCKING RIVER I'VE SEEN IN MY ENTIRE LIFE, THANK YOU VERY MUCH!

Alferd Packer:
Okay, what are you guys doing?

George Noon:
He's dead!

James Humphrey:
Well no kidding he's dead. His brains are lying in the snow.

Alferd Packer:
No, to eat.

George Noon:
I know, I need to take a pee!

Frank Miller:
God you guys make me sick. What is this, a fucking feel good convention?

Shannon Bell:
Listen, we have a long journey ahead of us. Its important we all get along. Now, you're hurting people's feelings. Your gunna have to find a more constructive way to express your anger.

Frank Miller:
Okay. Well, fuck you! How's that for constructive?

Shannon Bell:
That's great, now go to time out Mister.

George Noon:
I may look tough and mean-spirited but I'm really a sensitive artist.

Indian Girl:
That's very interesting.

George Noon:
I paint, and I sculpt with my hands.

Indian Girl:
That's very interesting too.

George Noon:
You have no idea what I'm saying, do you?

Indian Girl:
That's very interesting.

Shannon Bell:
We are from Utah.

Indian Chief:
Utah?

Indian Chief:
Ah, Utah.

Shannon Bell:
Can you tell us what tribe this is?

Indian Chief:
We are Indians.

Shannon Bell:
Yes... I can see that, but can you tell us...

Indian Chief:
You don't believe we are Indians?

Shannon Bell:
No, all...

Indian Chief:
Look at all these tepees. We have many tepees, for we... are... Indians.

Israel Swan:
Let's build a snowman! We can make him our best friend. We can name him Tom or we can name him George! We can make him tall, or we can make him not so tall. Snowman! He'll have a happy face, a happy smile, a happy point of view. If you build me a snowman, then I'll build one for you. So, let's build a snowman! We can make him our best friend. We can name him Bob or we can name him Beowulf! We can make him tall, or we can make him not so tall. Snowman! Hey! He'll have a happy face, a happy smile, a happy point of view. If you build me a snowman, then I'll build one for you. Snowman! Snowman! Snowman!

Shannon Bell:
Trials and tribulations, that's what life's all about! Now are we gonna let this one little thing keep us from fulfilling our dreams?

Shannon Bell:
Oh, come on now. We've gotta be strong, don't we?

James Humphrey:
Oh gosh, I never thought I'd be sleeping next to a naked man on this trip.

George Noon:
Just do what I'm doing. Just pretend like you're laying next to a nice soft woman.

Frank Miller:
WHAT?

George Noon:
I'm just imagining old Mr. Miller here as a nice tall blonde.

Frank Miller:
I'm just imagining old Mr. Miller here as a nice tall blonde.

Polly Pry:
How are you doing?

Alferd Packer:
How am I doing? Have you ever been sitting around waiting to die?

Polly Pry:
Yes! I have as a matter of fact!

Alferd Packer:
When?

Polly Pry:
Well alright, I've never really...

James Humphrey:
Excuse me. I've been doing some thinking. Ummm... just kind of looking at our situation here, and I've come to the conclusion that we're completely fucked! Has anybody else made this discovery?

James Humphrey:
Wait, you guys. Let me talk to them. I know how to speak Indian.

Shannon Bell:
We're gonna die.

James Humphrey:
Weep-wah, weep-wah, surro no happo?