George Foodim: After hitting a few bars, I went back to Brett's apartment and that's when I found him. I started to call the cops, right? But it's not like there was anything I could do. He was already dead. I had to get him to the park.
Flack: Uh, y-you're gonna have to help us out here, pal. Why did you have to get Brett to the park?
George Foodim: It was a bet. He was engaged twice before, couldn't go through with it. I bet our buddy Toby that Brett would definitely show up this time. There was no way I was gonna lose.
Mac: Whoa, whoa. You stuffed, dressed and moved your dead friend for a bet?
George Foodim: It was a hundred grand, man. I...I don't have it. And if I didn't pay up, Toby would have gone to my dad.
Det. Flack: It never occurred to you, with your friend being dead and all, that just maybe the bet was off?
George Foodim: I told you.
Flack: Yeah. Fifteen shots of tequila. I heard you.
George Foodim: Yeah, well it made... made sense yesterday morning. I feel bad. If you knew Brett, Brett, (laughs a bit) Yeah, I mean, he, he would've laughed. He would've done the same thing, I'm telling you.

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