Biker:
You got a problem, little man?
Raymond West:
No. No sir, no problem here.
Biker:
Then put your fuckin' eyes somewhere else!
Raymond West:
What it is, I'm just a fan of romance. Let me ask you a question. [looks at biker's girlfriend] Did she look like that before you rode her cross-country?
Biker:
[standing up] What the fuck did you say, you little midget?
Raymond West:
See, I always wondered, all these butt-faced pieces of garbage walkin' the earth, who's makin' 'em? I mean, what kind of Frankenstein monsters are out there copulatin' to create all these hunk of shit people in the world? Then I walk in this bar, and there's you two givin' me the answer I've been lookin' for my whole fuckin' life.
[The biker punches hiom in the face]
Biker:
You done buckin' cowboy?
Raymond West:
Thank God it was you hit me and not that woolly mammoth you're fuckin'!
