Rick: What the hell was that? Steve: Just an idea. Rick: She's a skank.
Steve: I thought she might cheer you up. Rick: Yeah, I'll forget all about me arm when I find out I've got crabs. Steve: I am a rock God! Joe: So, who do you like? Rick: What, you mean drummers? Joe: No, cup finals. Rick: Well, Argentina's gonna be tough... Peter Mench: I'm putting AC/DC on tour. 22 gigs, all over England and I need an opening act. I'm thinking Def Leppard. Joe: That's good thinking. Rick: I am buying meself the biggest, fastest Corvette Detriot makes. Maybe I'll have 'em put me name on it. Joe: You think too small, son. Where's the owner? Owner: That's me. Joe: Right. I am buying your pub, sir. Joe: Hey, mate, what are you drinking? Phil: Alright, listen, it's a look. Glam? No offence, mate, I really fancy girls. Phil: So, let me get this straight. You're her mum, and you want to do what to me? Rick: [after visiting Steve in rehab and lecturing Joe on hearing people but not paying attention to what they say] You know, I've spent seems like my whole life backing you playing bass. And while you've been out there cheering and singing and winding them up, do you know what I've been doing? Joe: What? Rick: I've been watching. You should try it sometime. You could learn a lot. Mutt Lange: You guys sold 7 million copies of Pyromania. It's one of the biggest albums in history. It's a good warmup.