That's nice. That's nice

Shane Falco:

[Shane parks his truck at the stadium and sees several of the former Sentinels approaching his truck]
You gotta be kidding me. Come on Martel, I didn't park in your space. Eddie Martel:
No, no. But unfortunately, you did park in La Mont's space. And he's not nearly as lenient as I am. Malcolm La Mont:
On three fellas. One, two, three! [the former Sentinels tip over Shane's truck. Shane begins to walk away until Jamal and Andre step up] Andre Jackson:
We got this, we got this. Jamal Jackson:
Y'all wanna put the car back? Eddie Martel:
Gentlemen, this is none of your business. Andre Jackson:
Shane's our business. We're the guards. Jamal Jackson:
And we protect our quarterback. [the former Sentinels all crack up laughing] Jamal Jackson:
Oh, You got jokes. You got jokes. That's your ride right there, ain't it? [Jamal nods at a very expensive looking car] Eddie Martel:
Yeah. [Jamal whips out a pistol and shoots at the car, leaving six bullet holes in the windshield] Eddie Martel:
That's my windshield, you crazy mother... Jamal Jackson:
Put the car back! Malcolm La Mont:
Son of a bitch! Jamal Jackson:
Son of a bitch? Oh, son of a bitch. Son of a bitch? Son of a bitch? [Jamal shoots the driver side window, shattering it] Eddie Martel:
Stop, stop, stop! Come on goddamn it, help me! [Sentinels shove Shane's truck back over] Malcolm La Mont:
You're gonna pay for that. Jamal Jackson:
No I'm not. Stop messing with my man, and that includes his ride. Matter of fact, wax that muthafucka. Give it a tune up. [as if nothing has happened] Jamal Jackson:
Ya ready to go to practice Shane? Shane Falco:
Yeah. Let's do that. Andre Jackson:
What's that smell? Shane Falco:
Wild yam. Andre Jackson:
That's nice. That's nice