Your Pretty Face Is Going to Hell2013

Famine:
Gentlemen, tomorrow we vote on a new union contract.

War:
And tomorrow, he will hear our mighty union roar.

All:
Yeah!

[cuts to the next scene in Satan's office where they're union didn't work out as they've expected]

Famine:
You cut back our entire horse count to two?

Satan:
I think you could put three or four on a horse. I've think I've seen that in movies and things. And the personal chef is gone. You can eat the same slop that the horses eat. Just standard boilerplate stuff, but it's only a third of my original offer.

War:
Unacceptable. We vote. All in favor of Satan's ridiculous contract proposal, raise your hands.

[Famine, Death, Pestilence, and Gary did not raise their hands except for Claude, Benji, Dizzay, and Eddie]

Satan:
Oh, it's four to four. Gary, I do think you were telling me the other day how much in favor of this new proposal you were.

[Gary nods his meaning "no"]

Satan:
Gary?

[Gary then raise his hand]

Satan:
There we go. We have a majority. Great.

War:
I should have known this was a big scam. You're all sons of b*tches!

Famine:
Horsemen, ha! More like whores, man. Yeah.

Death:
Benji! You look just like what you are -- One big scab.

[Gary suddenly plays his guitar]

Gary Bunda:
[singing] Saying sorry just can't convey, just how sorry I am today.

War:
GIVE ME THAT F***ING GUITAR! [brutally slams the guitar in pieces]