"We need to get up." "Ehhrmmmmm....not yet." "No we have to get up." "What time is it?" "Like 8." "Guh, you're right." "Of course. I'm always right." "No, *I'm* always right!" "That's a good point. You are the sun of rightness, and I am merely the moon, just reflecting a bit of your rightness at night." "Mmmm-hmmm." "You're right New York City, and I'm merely right New Jersey. You're the Eiffel Tower of rightness, and I'm the Arc de Triomphe." "..." "You're a great big garbage dump of right, and I'm only a little toxic stream running off of it." "I liked the sun and the moon thing better." "You're the penis of rightness, and I'm just the pubic hair around it. No, better...you're the vagina of rightness, I'm just the bellybutton of rightness." "..." "But the clitoris of truth is: we have to get up, like now." "OK I'm going!"
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