Danny: [shouts] For f*** sakes, Ricky! What the f*** are you doing with the satellites? I paid ten f***in' dollars! I want my f***ing satellite signal! Jesus Christ!Ricky: Danny, chill the f*** out! I'm f***ing trying here, it'll be back up in a bit! Calm the f*** down.Satellite Employee: Look, if these satellites aren't down in ten minutes, I'll have no choice but to call the cops.Julian: Ricky, get the dishes off my roof.Ricky: [starts throwing dishes off the roof] I'll take every f***ing one of these down, is that what you want? F***in' retards. I don't give a f*** about this stupid bullshit. [smashes a dish through the TV van's windshield] There, they're in the f***in' van, now leave.Danny: [in the background] Ten f***in' dollars a month!
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