Homer: [gunshot in background] Hey Quentin!
[another gunshot]
Homer: That rocket had to have gone up at least 100 feet didn't it?
Quentin: More like two hundred.
[another gunshot]
Homer: Goddammit.
Homer: [another gunshot] Will you cut it out, Roy Lee?
Roy Lee: Die you son of a bitch!
[fires another round into the grill of his broken down car]