“I didn’t win a championship, but I did pop some champagne bottles—and a few locks. Why bother training when you can just steal the trophy?”

“Why did *I* lock the door? Why did YOU lock the door? Someone locked the door...”

“When I came out, Jackson was laying out a few things on the bed. "What are you doing?"He smiled sheepishly and pointed out a few candles, a bottle of some pinkish liquid, and a bottle of what I could only assume was champagne. "I thought I'd get everything ready so that when we came back after dinner, there'd be nothing to ruin the flow.""Oh." Flow? What was this supposed to be, the virgin pipeline? "Good thinking.”

“Well, why did you kill Jeremiah? And don't bother feeding me some story about how you just happened to wander along after he spontaneously died. I know you did this.”

“I didn’t write that song to try and win you over, or to steal you away from him. I wrote it because I knew I never could.”

“Me and the bottle have always been friends, we've had a few old nasty fights but the bottle would always win, so when I go to answer that final curtain call, I can hear these words being whispered by all... Ol' George stopped drinking today.”