Cyndi: What are you doing in there moaning like a dying hound?
Marcus: Jan said I belong in prison and I'm singing the blues.
Cyndi: What are you in for this time?
Marcus: I used my nose to smash Jan in the shin with the prison door when she was walking by.
Cyndi: That wasn't very bright.
Marcus: I was bored.
Cyndi: How long do you have to serve before you get out on parole?
Marcus: I think Jan said I'm a lifer.
Cyndi: I'd say we'll miss you but you'll still be here annoying us.
Marcus: Do you think you could bake me a cake with a file in it so I can escape?
Cyndi: No. I don't want to end up sharing a cell with you.
Percy: Can you guys please keep it down so I can take a nap! And, Marcus, stop whining. You know very well you went in your Private Dining Car of your own accord and the door is not latched.