"Jesus, Dean, you're like a broken record."

"Shut-up."

"Seriously. It's the same thing over and over again. Aren't you sick of saying that?"

"No."

"It's just a song."

"It's not just a song. It's a soul-sucking, happiness draining, no talent piece of studio engineered crap. Besides, I'm driving so it's the house rules, Sammy, driver picks the music, shot…"

"…gun shuts his cakehole. Blah blah blah. Whatever."

"See? You're learning already!"

"So when I drive, that rule still applies right?"

"Nope."

"What?"

"Because car owner trumps everything, and I just happen to own this car. Sorry, Sammy."

"You jerk!"

"Bitch."