Trez Kerbz: I have boredom, Joakim Noah. There is boredom in me.
Joakim Noah: For real, son. Let's do something then.
Trez Kerbz: Like what?
Joakim Noah: Let's get some oil, son.
Trez Kerbz: a) Why would we get oil? And b) How are we going to get oil?
Joakim Noah: You kidding? Oil is like gold, but, like a liquid.
Trez Kerbz: Liquid gold.
Joakim Noah: Word, son. We need to get that oil, son.
Trez Kerbz: Sure. How?
Joakim Noah: Yo, throw that ice pick in the ground.
Trez Kerbz: Why do you have an ice pick?
Joakim Noah: Why do only certain birds eat certain bird seed? Why did old-time sailors think manatees were mermaids? Why we hangin' out? You ask too many questions, man.
Trez Kerbz: Whatever. So, you think I just throw this ice pick in the ground and we'll get some oil?
Joakim Noah: Word. Get a bag though.
Trez Kerbz: Why?
Joakim Noah: For the oil, son.
Trez Kerbz: Right. (throws ice pick, oil starts spurting)
Joakim Noah: YEAH, SON!
Trez Kerbz: I cannot believe that worked. (copious amounts of oil continue to spurt)
Joakim Noah: GET THAT OIL, SON! GET OIL!
