Linden: "Here is a key-card I have found."
Carlson: "Oh, why didn't you say so? Go right ahead."
Darren: "Here are my platitudes! Sup upon them!"
Darren: "Just kidding, I'm going to lose. And here's why. You know how I didn't kill Rosie Larsen?"
Rally: "We are still not 100% on that!"
Darren: "Okay, well the reason is that my alibi was that I tried to feed myself to the crabs."
Rally: "Okay, we're listening!"
Jamie: "Gwen, this is going south fast."
Gwen: "It's his choice, Jamie! Don't take that away. Don't metaphorically kiss him in the kitchen."
Darren: "So then I creepily crept down to the bridge where ten years previous I proposed marriage to my wife, and looked down into the dark waters, and -- I was shitfaced, obviously, at this point in the story -- I allowed bitterness and pain to overcome me, and I jumped."
Rally: "Holy shit!"
Darren: "You know that uncle of my boyfriend I talk about every week?"
Rally: "Yes, we love that story! It makes us ignore what you are actually saying! We just see flags waving and like fireworks when you say that story!"
Darren: "Then have at it."
Rally: "Wait, so what are you saying! Clarify your remarks!"
Darren: "Aren't we all just inches from suicide, really, all the time? Somebody's always killing your daughter or your wife or your biological father, or leaving you for motel rendezvouses with sickening runaways, or jamming forks in your leg, or slamming your fingers in a door, or locking you in the mental institution, or slapping your kids with an open hand, or tempting your children into prostitution and/or maid service, or threatening your dog, or going on shooting sprees, or falsifying photographs of you crossing a bridge, or making dumb videos about butterflies, or crucifying you to savage gods, or gang-raping witches on your camera phone, or going on endlessly about waterfront projects? Isn't living in Seattle the fucking worst?"
Rally: "Yes! That is always happening to us! We hate it here!"