"Tucker: Do you hate the World Bank? Girl: Uhh, umm, well, I mean, yeah, I feel that... Tucker: You don't hate the World Bank. Girl: I don't? Tucker: No. You're mad at your father. You just want daddy to hug you more. Girl: What? Tucker: You were a sociology major weren't you? Girl: NO! Tucker: What was your major? Girl: [Pauses] Uhhh, English Literature. Tucker: [Pause--to give her a look of contempt] Did your parents send you a bill for college? How are those Marxist Literary Critique classes working out for you? You work at Barnes and Noble don't you? Girl: NO--I wor-- Tucker: Shouldn't you be blocking an intersection right now? How many anti-sweatshop petitions have you signed--EVEN THOUGH YOU HAVE REEBOKS ON. Very-anti globalization to wear those with your animal tested Clinque make-up made in Nepal. Well, at least you're consistent in your shameless hypocrisy. Girl: What a fascist piece of shi-- Tucker: You ever wake up in the middle of the night because a couple of cats are clawing each other to death outside your window? That's what it's like listening to you speak. Girl: [A mishmash of stammered half insults] Tucker: Seriously--If I stuck my dick in your mouth would that shut you up? Girl: Wha...YOU ARE SUCH AN ASSHOLE! Tucker: HEY--Don't blame me for the wound in your crotch. [As I walk off] By the way, you owe us a rib."