DUDE
What the fuck're you talking about?
The carrier. What's in the fucking
carrier?

WALTER
Huh? Oh--Cynthia's Pomeranian.
Can't leave him home alone or he
eats the furniture.

DUDE
What the fuck are you--

WALTER
I'm saying, Cynthia's Pomeranian.
I'm looking after it while Cynthia
and Marty Ackerman are in Hawaii.

DUDE
You brought a fucking Pomeranian
bowling?

WALTER
What do you mean "brought it bowling"?
I didn't rent it shoes. I'm not
buying it a fucking beer. He's not
gonna take your fucking turn, Dude.

He lets the small yapping dog out of the carrier. It scoots
around the bowling table, sniffing at bowlers and wagging
its tail.

DUDE
Hey, man, if my fucking ex-wife asked
me to take care of her fucking dog
while she and her boyfriend went to
Honolulu, I'd tell her to go fuck
herself. Why can't she board it?

WALTER
First of all, Dude, you don't have
an ex, secondly, it's a fucking show
dog with fucking papers. You can't
board it. It gets upset, its hair
falls out.

DUDE
Hey man--

WALTER
Fucking dog has papers, Dude.--Over
the line!