Cool monkey, dude.

Looking at the ziti and taking a big bite out of the squash, Loverboy seems perplexed.

Wait, you just... had all this food already? While you were napping? Do you have, like, an eating disorder or something?

Loverboy looks around at all the dude in the room. Assuming the orangutan is a dude. And then he chekcs his watch, impatiently waiting for Macbeth to finish up.

Fuck, man, this place is a sausage fest. Can't your robot go get that Vanessa bitch, or Nasty Natty Whatever-her-last-name-is? Your boys look like they've got a year's worth of blue balls swelling up.

Loverboy does a quick key bump off of his coke pile, then throws up his hands in shame.

Oh, shit, where are my manners... anyone want some of this eight ball?