Hector: Come on, Jasper. We can make it.
Jasper: I ain’t gonna get hit by a bus, man.
Hector:(with a smug look) Oh, your afraid of dying sissy. I got it.
Jasper: I didn’t say that. I just don’t want to get hit by a bus.
Hector: How do you want to die then, tough guy?
Jasper: Lying naked as the day I was born on a Days Inn mattress, with a lit Pall Mall in my mouth, a chunky IHOP waitress astride, and surrounded by empty Pabst Blue Ribbon cans.
Hector: That’s fucked up.
Jasper: What, you gay Hector?
Hector: No…just…a fat waitress?
Jasper: I said “chunky”.
Jasper: Look whose talkin’. Mr. I want to get hit by a bus.
Hector: (with a smile) Well, I guess they are kind of the same thing.
Jasper: You’re a wise man, Hector. Don’t let this world or that bus take that from you.
Jasper: I said I’m tired.
Hector: Oh (pause) you could at least die drinking better beer, Jasper.
Jasper: Who said I was drinking it. You don’t get a prize like a chunky IHOP waitress with sweet talk. You’ve got to grease the waffle iron if you know what I mean.
Jasper: Sueno. Muy sueno, amigo.