"If your songs aren't what you really feel-"

"And your song would be what the Boppettes really feel? Give me a frigging break."

"If it represented what you were about, it doesn't matter who wrote it."

"Please don't be so annoying. Like it really barfs me out."

Rudolph looked hurt as he whipped his body out of the water and onto the pool deck.

"Come on, Rudolph. I'm telling you for your own fucking good. You would go down a lot better with girls if you didn't act so insecure. And conceited at the same time."

"You sound like you're trying to say you know everything. How everyone should act. That's a big head talking, Babette."

"Are you following me?"

"I was just talking to you."

"And where are we now?"

"Inside your house."

"Yeah. And I told you I was going to get dressed now. Did you think I was going to ask you to sing me your jerky song while I was in the shower or something? Ask you to fasten my bra?"

"Good bye, Babette."

"Yeah. Drip by anytime."

"Say hello to Darleene."

"You want me to tell her you tried to feel me up in the pool? Tried to get me to kiss you? And how you licked my neck?"

"We were just fooling around."

"Yeah, right. I was. I don't know about you. Darleene know about your song? I mean, if she's your girlfriend and the song's supposed to be about me- that's a little strange."

"Uh-I just went with the inspiration."

"Bullshit. I'll bet that's the same song Darleene said you wrote about her."

"Oh? She say anything about how she liked it? It wasn't finished then."

"We were actually talking about something else when she mentioned it in passing."

"I just had some of the words together then. I changed it all around later. When I was doing the music to it."

"Gag me with a drumstick."

"Now it's about you, Babette."