Open the door, Max.
I'm about to kill Han, and I know you're gonna want to see that.
Damn it, he's right.
Cute outfit, Han.
Like one of those male strippers from No Thunder Down Under.
This is so heavy, Oleg.
What do you have in here?
Socks.
Really, hon, it's like your arms are only there for decoration.
To be fair, Oleg's socks probably have some pretty heavy loads in them.
Oleg, what is all your junk doing out here?
Do I actually smell girls screaming?
I bring things up, Sophie says no, I bring them right back down.
Is there no elevator up in this bitch?
Oleg, you forgot your painting, and this one's a definite no.
Sophie, I haven't gotten a yes yet, aside from the quickie we had up against the bathroom sink.
Not such a quickie.
They locked me out, and I had to eat my lunch in the truck.
Then what was the point of me renting a moving truck?
I mean, besides the rough sex we had up against the sides.
They locked me outside on the side of the road for that one.
Okay, well, we have to go back in.
See you tonight at the beef-a-thon.
You know, Oleg, maybe I'm being unfair.
I mean, you have all this stuff that you like, and they have an apartment.
Put it in there.
Sophie!
Well, I'll see you at eight.
So what do you say, girls?
Absolutely not.
Max, there's a method to my madness.
Oleg, will you excuse us a second?
And maybe help home with that box and those shorts.
I can actually see a hernia happening.
I thought we weren't getting involved.
If we help Oleg out, he'll let us use the moving truck to pick up our heat lamps.
I already said no to those.
But we just talked about it.
I wasn't listening.
That baby fell face down into mashed potatoes.
But you said yes to the dinner party, so if you get your meat, I get my heat.
Just because you rhyme doesn't make it OK.
And I'm pretty sure that's what Rihanna said to Chris Brown.
Where are we meeting this chick with the heat lamps?
I haven't gone this far for something I didn't want since Planned Parenthood moved to New Jersey.
Hello?
I'm getting truck sick back here.
You're a worse driver than people assume I am.
Come on, come on.
We're gonna be late to dinner.
Would any of you be interested in playing rock, paper, scissors for a seat up front?
No.
Girls, can I ask you a relationship question?
No.
As such, what do we know about relationships?
That's like asking Donald Trump for the name of a good hairstylist.
I mean, what's the deal with her?
She asks me to move in and then won't even let me have my painting?
I mean, Sophie already bought the cow.
She might as well let the cows crap in.
So, you're saying I'm right?
No, no.
But I do think that... No, you don't think.
Or your mouth wouldn't be moving right now.
I'm just saying...
He has the right to move some of his stuff into Sophie's apartment and out of ours.
Speaking of his stuff, something in a box back here is humming and, oh, it stopped.
Oh, it started again.
That's my lifelike mouth with authentic jaw action.
Oh, and watch the road.
The last words I hear can't be lifelike mouth.