Dewey: Okay, yes, you can be in my band, but, Ned, no power plays, man. I've got vision up the butt, so just go with it.
Ned: [chuckles] No, thanks.
Dewey: [shows Ned a photo of him in his old band] You're not a teacher, Ned. You're the cross-dressing, blood-sucking incubus from Maggot Death. That's the real you!
Ned: Dewey, I'm not a sexy satanic god anymore. I'm a working stiff. And that's cool.
Dewey: She's got you brainwashed, man.
Patty: Can you see that I'm working?
Dewey: That's terrific. But who are you, babe? This is my apartment, babe.
Patty: Oh... Not if you don't pay your rent, it's not. Get a job!
Dewey: I got a job, okay? I'm gonna have your rent by the end of the week. Go tell the mayor.
Patty: You got a job. Doing what?
Dewey: I do what Ned does, I'm temping.
Ned: I'm not a temp, I'm a sub. And soon I'll be a certified teacher.
Dewey: Come on, man! One show, $20,000 prize, we split it 60-40, grab your bass, and come back to the garage, brother! I mean, don't you miss rocking out?
Patty: Dewey, if you think anyone in the right mind is gonna wanna be in a band with you, you're more delusional than I thought.
Ned: Dewey, you know, maybe it's time to give up those dreams. I did, and things are going really great for me.
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