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Kraig: Let’s smoke weed about it.
Tyler: You don’t say. Pack a bowl, asshole.
Kraig: That seems like yr job, lately.
Tyler: You don’t say.
Kraig: What goes around, comes around. (Tyler passes the Gobblin over to Kraig, characteristically offering him greens.) Nah, you should probably spark that.
Tyler: Why, thank you, my lady.
Kraig: Does that make you my sugar daddy?
Tyler: I thought we were dating? Just don’t tell Theresa.
Kraig: Yr fiance is pretty damn intuitive, buddy.
Tyler: What’s next, where do we go from here?
Kraig: Tyler, the walls move when I look at them. Why are you asking me?
Tyler: I can work myself into that frenzy too, buddy.
Kraig: Yea, you yell and I laugh.
Tyler: But we’re both crying the whole time.
Kraig: Practiced hands are insanity.
Tyler: Wait, so where were we?
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