You guys look in good spirits.
“We’re having a good time.”
“Big Guy and the Bobber.”
“What’d I tell you about that, man?”
“Not in public. Sorry, Big Guy.”
“You did it! We’re having a good time!”
“We are, Bob.”
Garcia, you look–and don’t take offense at this–clean.
“I showered. I mean: not specifically for this, but recently enough so that I can claim to have showered.”
What’s going on behind Bobby’s head?
“It’s a thing, man. Bobby really wants to be on Miami Vice. Every week, he sits there and there’s another musician guest star and Bobby loses his shit. You know: he was okay when Miles Davis and Zappa were on, but when Glenn Frey showed up, Bobby had to be restrained and drugged. Well, drugged further, I suppose.”
“Garcia, I can’t make this clearer: if Glenn Frey’s allowed on the show, then I should be allowed on the show. He’s, like, the Los Angeles version of me: an Asian person could not tell the two of us apart.”