Where the hell's my boots? Anybody seen my boots? Somebody took my boots. I bought 'em...

Stan: Where the hell's my boots? Anybody seen my boots? Somebody took my boots. I bought 'em special. All right. All right, you guys. Whoever took my boots, I want 'em back. Axel: I got a boot for you, Stan, right up your ass. [jokingly throws a kick near his rear to which he responds by playfully pointing his gun at him] Axel: Hey, Mike. Hey, Mike, let me borrow your spares, huh? Your extra pair? Michael: No, Stan. Stan: [taken aback] No?... What do you mean, "No?" Michael: Just what I said. No. "No" means no. Stan: [getting upset] Some fuckin' friend. You're some fuckin' friend, you know that? Michael: You gotta learn, Stanley. Every time you come up here, you got your goddamn head up your ass. Axel: Maybe he likes the view from up there, huh? [the group laugh at him] Michael: Every time he comes up, he's got no knife, he's got no jacket, he's got no pants, he's got no boots. All he's got is that stupid gun he carries around like John Wayne. That ain't gonna help ya'. Axel: Oh, what the hell, Mike. Give him the boots. Michael: No way. I ain't giving him no boots no more. No more. That's it. Stan: You're a fuckin' bastard, you know that? Huh? Michael: [holds up a live round] Stanley, see this? This is this. This ain't somethin' else. This is *this.* From now on, you're on your own. Stan: [appalled, angry] I fixed you up a million times! [to the group] Stan: I fixed him up a million times! I don't know how many times I must have fixed him up with girls! And nothin' ever happens! Zero! Hey, you know your trouble, Mike, huh? Nobody ever knows what the fuck you're talking about. Huh? "This is this!" What the hell is that supposed to mean? "This is this!" I mean, is that some faggot-sounding bullshit or is that some faggot-sounding bullshit? Nick: Shut up, Stan, will ya'? [Stan shoves him] Nick: Hey, man, you're outta line. Michael: Watch out with that gun, Stan. [more strictly] Michael: Watch out with the gun. Stan: [yelling] There's times - do you know what I think? There's times I swear I think you're a fuckin' faggot! John: Hey! Come on, you guys! [Michael smirks in amusement] Stan: Last week - last week, he could've had that new redheaded waitress down at the Bowladrome. He could've had it knocked and look what he did. Look what he fuckin' did. Nothin', that's what. John: Shut up, Stan, huh? Would ya' SHUT UP? Just shut up. Just take - take Michael's goddamn boots and SHUT UP! [takes the laced boots and places them on Stan's shoulder] John: Otherwise, I'm goin' home! Michael: [Stan starts to walk away with Mike's boots] Hey, Stosh. [Stan turns to look at him] Michael: I said, "No." Stan: What, are you gonna shoot me? Huh? Here... [opens a gap in his shirt to make a target for him, Mike just stands there staring at him; knowing this will go nowhere, Stan takes the boots and throws them aggressively at Mike, walking away] Nick: [walks over, picks up the boots, says to Mike] What's the matter with you? [walks over to Stan] Nick: Stan. [gives him back the boots] Michael: [Mike puts the live round into his rifle, takes aim and vents his anger by firing it out into the woods, then looks at the group to see their bewildered reactions]

Never mind. I got 'em. Where the hell's my boots? Anybody see my boots? Somebody took my boots. I bought 'em special. All right. All right, you guys. Whoever took my boots, I want 'em back. I got a boot for you, Stan, right up your ass. Hey, Mike. Hey, Mike, let me borrow your spares, huh? - Your extra pair? - No, Stan. No? - What do you mean, "no"? - Just what I said. No. No means no. Some fucking friend. You're some fucking friend, you know that? You gotta learn. Every time you come here, you got your head up your ass. Maybe he likes the view from up there. Every time he comes up, he's got no knife, he's got no jacket, he's got no pants, he's got no boots. All he's got is that stupid gun he carries around like John Wayne. That ain't gonna help you. Oh, what the hell, Mike. Give him the boots. No way, I ain't giving him no boots. No more. No more. That's it. You're a fucking bastard, you know that? Huh? Stanley, see this? This is this. This ain't something else. This is this. From now on, you're on your own. I fixed you up a million times. I fixed him up a million times. I don't know how many times I must've fixed him up with girls. And nothing ever happened. Zero. You know your trouble, Mike, huh? Nobody ever knows what you're talking about. "This is this." What the hell's that supposed to mean? "This is this." Is that faggot-sounding bullshit, or is that faggot-sounding... Shut up, Stan, will you? Hey, man, you're outta line. - Watch out with that gun, Stan. - Do you know what I think? You know what I think? There's times I swear I think you're a fucking faggot. Hey, come on, you guys. Last week he could've had that new redheaded waitress at the Bowladrome. He could've had it knocked, and look what he did. Nothing! That's what. Shut up, Stan, huh? Just shut up! Just shut up. Take... Take Michael's goddamn boots and shut up. Otherwise, I'm going home. Yeah, I'm going home right now. Get off my stuff. What the hell are you doing? Hey, Stosh. I said "no". What, are you gonna shoot me? Huh? Here. What's the matter with you? Stan.