“And we'll call you...hmmm. Pudge.""Huh?""Pudge," the Colonel said. "Because you're skinny. It's called irony, Pudge. Heard of it? Now, let's go get some cigarettes and start this year off right.”
“Poor Pudge. Oh, poor poor Pudge. Do you want me to climb into bed with you and cuddle?""Well since you're offering--""NO! UP! NOW!”
“Oh, God, Alaska, I love you. I love you,' and the Colonel whispered, 'I'm so sorry, Pudge. I know you did,' and I said, 'No. Not past tense.”
“Pudge," She shook her head and sipped the cold coffee and wine-"Pudge, what you must understand about me is that I am a deeply unhappy person.”
“Pudge, my friend, we are indefuckingstructible.”
“Hey Pudge," the Colonel said. "What do you think of a truce?""It reminds me of when the Germans demanded that the U.S. surrender at the Battle of the Bulge," I said. "I guess I'd say to this truce offer what General McAuliffe said to that one: Nuts.”