Insurance Man: It's gotta be in excellent working condition, all right? Insurance company won't give you no money for a car that doesn't run. Ca-can you hang with this?
Chauncy: Yeah, I'll hook you up. Be here tomorrow night at about, uh, about ten-thirty.
Insurance Man: I'm-I'm sorry. Did you? Are you sure you mean tomorrow night?
Chauncy: D-d-do I stutter, motherfucker?
Insurance Man: No, no problem. Tomorrow night. That's fine.
Chauncy: Did I stutter, motherfucker?
Insurance Man: No, you're right.
Chauncy: What? You scared to come through this neighborhood at night, motherfucker? Huh?
Insurance Man: [timidly] No problem.
Chauncy: You ain't too scared to have a black man steal for your funky ass, are you?
Insurance Man: You're right.
Chauncy: Man, get the fuck out of here? Don't bring your narrow ass up in here no more! Go on back to Westwood where you belong!
[the Insurance Man runs away]
Chauncy: Hope you find your way down Compton Avenue, motherfucker!