"Yo, Phil, don't worry man, we didn't need those flack jackets and night vision goggles your tax dollars were going to buy us. We'll make due without them, somehow. As long as you've got enough to live super comfortably, that's all that matters, you fat fucking piece of shit."
"I'd fuck him but I stopped fucking cheap assholes long ago. I only fuck well to do assholes who don't mind paying what they owe."
"I don't want to live in a world where a doughy white guy with man boobs can't weasel out on his tax responsibility. I also don't want to live in a world where my son and I can't dress in matching outfits every day of the week. That's just how I roll."
"I'm not wearing panties."
"I've pulled up his financial information and I'm going to sell it to the nice Russian guys who whore me out on the weekends."
"We have no opinion about Phil Mickelson, we're too busy trying to get jobs modeling for Benetton. What? They don't do print ads much anymore because they downsized and closed a bunch of their stores in the USA? Well fuck it then. How about you tell Phil to use that money he's not going to pay in taxes to invest in Benetton so they can open those stores back up...oh fuck it, who are we kidding? We still don't give a shit. Now leave us alone so we can go find us some meth."