C.J.: So, the 4-H convention.
Toby: We're not going.
C.J.: I don't get it. How can you not want to see the butter cow?
Toby: I'm that way.
C.J.: You understand it's a life-size cow made entirely of butter.
Toby: We're not going.
C.J.: There's also a butter Elvis and a butter Last Supper which has, I swear to God, Toby...
Toby: Butter on the table?
C.J.: It's got butter on the table right there between butter James and butter Peter, an almost mind-blowing vortex of art and material that dares the viewer to recall Marcel Duchamp.
Toby: How do they keep it from melting?
C.J.: How, indeed.
Nancy: Toby, you have a phone call in the staff cabin.
Toby: Thank you.
C.J.: Butter, butter, butter, butter, butter, butter, butter.

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