Wes: If I really wanted to be Tom Cruise, I'd be playing volleyball, not this lame frisbee crap.
Steve: I've gotta tinkle.
Tobin: That bird just took a crap on that Buick. Sweet.
Sean: go long...back...back..back {splash}...good.
Steve: I do what with this now? Hey look, it says Wilson on it. I had a pet volleyball named Wilson once.
Sean loved to dive for the football. That is, until the sprinkler-head incident.
Nothing is sadder than a burning clown car with no way out. Except maybe playing frisbee with yourself.
After a particularly intense game of frisbee tossing, Steve likes to relax with a good book and his right thumb.
Avery: So Randall has this lifesize plush BSD devil thing. And it even has its own...you know..
Andy: Yeah, I hate all those fuckers too. Just keep smilin'.
Alex: You can't really get pubic lice on your forearm. Right?
Shasta: ..and like cookie dough between my hands..he's mine.
Andria didn't get the memo. This was the no smiling table.
Fish from heaven! It was almost too good to be true. Unfortunately for Tobin and Steve, the bird had dibs.
Sean: I'll fight any seagull that challenges my honor! Let's tango.
Wes: Come to papa you big beautiful bastard.
