[Mason shows George how the undead look to the living]
George: Who decides what we look like?
Mason: I don’t know. Maybe this is what our inner child looks like when it grows up.
George: If that were the case, it looks like my inner child’s road to adulthood was paved with crack cocaine, ten-dollar blowjobs, and maybe even a trick baby or two.

Betty: Oh, and always be nice to that lady at the DMV.
Roxy: I told that bitch that her weave looked like carpet, and now my social insurance number pulls up *two* bankruptcies!