"It's not going to happen."
"You didn't even wince."
"Why would I wince?"
"Well, you just told a lie..."
"I DID NOT!"
"Yes, you did. Well, you didn't say a Truth. The fact is, it IS going to happen, and there's damn little you can do about it."
"Yes, really. There's only one way out of it."
"And that would be..."
"We start the Last Battle right here, right now. You and me. You get out of this literally over my dead body.
"What, cat got your tongue?"
"Of course it's cheating. I fight to win, after all."
"And I don't?"
"Don't try to change the subject. I've spent too long and pissed off too many people preparing for this. I've got the bar, the booze, the strippers, the Laurentine porn..."
"Yeah, I know, it was a shock to me, too. My mistake for asking Andre for something a little out of the ordinary. Anyway, I've got all the stuff we need for one epic, unrighteous, absolutely radioactive blowout of a bachelor party... and, damn it all, you WILL come with me and you WILL get drunk and you WILL see exactly what you're passing up by getting hitched. It's f*cking traditional."
"Just tell me why. You certainly don't want to see me married - and I know that you hate her. You always hated her."
"That's traditional, too. Evil Companions always hate the Little Women who take away their drinking buddies."
"Now you're changing the subject. Spill it."
"Does it matter?"
"Fine. Look, what am I supposed to do? I won't tell you that I hope that you'll be happy, because I don't. I can't actually go to either the service or the reception, for obvious reasons. And I'm certainly not going to get you any of those stupid things on that stupid list that SHE made you ask for.
"But I'm also not going to let my oldest friend go off and get married without doing something to mark the occasion. Deal with it."
"Fine. Have it your way. Just one thing, though..."
"If I even see a pair of handcuffs and a tub of shoe polish I'm going to kick your demonic ass all the way back to the Pit."
"Damn. There goes the opening act."
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