(He’s sitting up in bed while asleep.)
M: Lay down babe.
H: Fuck you, Indiana Jones!
M: I’m sure he feels the same way about you.
H: Eject the proletariat.
H: (sits up suddenly and starts mumbling)
M: What are you doing babe?
H: I have to choose one.
M: You should lay back down. It’s time to sleep.
H: I have to choose which one to saw in half.
M: It’s 10:30, you should go back to sleep.
H: Okay…(lays back down) I’m terrible at magic anyway.
M: There you go.
H: (disappointed voice) I have a top hat.
M: Whatcha doing?
H: Fighting Billy Crystal.
M: Well, can’t you do that on your back?
H: No, I fight drugs for the community.
M: Hey, you should lay down. Lay down with me.
H: You just want me to lay down cuz you’re jealous. (derogatory grumbling) Laying down is for suckers!
M: What are you doing?
H: Watching over the city.
M: You should lay down.
H: I can’t see from here.
M: Just lay back down.
M: Come on, lay back down on your pillows.
H: You’re the devil. (grumbling) Lay down, lay down… Set you on fire and tell people you’re a prostitute from Brooklyn…
H: Get down! Get down! There’s gunfire! … Or maybe it’s just a truck backfire.
M: No guns or trucks here. Just me. You should lay down now.
H: I can lay down here, like this.
M: Yes, good. Are you okay now?
H: I look pretty.
H: I look like a truck. I have a box on my head.