No, you dumb sack of shit! I'm the massive hallucination resulting for the three pounds of peyote buttons you just ate, dickwad.
Hallucination? No! This is supposed to be a dream quest! That Indian guy on the discovery channel told me!
Listen, you fucking retard: THIS IS NOT A DREAM QUEST! This is the end result of massive amounts of hallucinagenic toxins ravaging your already-meager brain cells!!
Say, aren't we supposed to dance around a bonfire like that Jim Morrison guy?
And to think, I'm stuck with you until this shit wears off. . .or until you try to stab the spiders on your face with an icepick.
. . .so, what you're saying is that all of this is fantasy, an illusion caused by the copious amounts of peyote I ingested at the rave, right?
FINALLY! We're getting somewhere.
You see, you got into this whole thing by thinking that peyote would send you on what the Indians call a "dream quest", which is really a series of psychadelic hallucinations.
Sorry, I wasn't listening. Could you turn back into that chick with the big tits again?
Arrrrgh! Matey, if I wasn't a figment of yer drug-addled imagination, I'd kick ye in the nuts.
Tyler, I've had a wonderful evening with you. I love the way I feel when I'm around you. You make me feel like I haven't felt in a long time. I love you. Isn't there anything you'd like to say to me?
What the fuck is your name, anyway?
He's so overcome with his love for me, that he can barely think straight. That is SO SWEET!
Sometimes when I watch telletubbies, I get the biggest boner. ESPECIALLY for that yellow one.
Tell me about your hopes, your dreams, your fears.
Well, I hope to fuck you. I dream about torturing animals, setting things on fire, and pissing on the Mona Lisa. I fear Ethiopians, telephone booths, earwax, and my left nipple, which calls me names.
So, the Mona Lisa, huh? Are you an art lover, too?