Stan Fox, buying gas.

Navin R. Johnson selling it, sir.

(madman) Got you, you average, typical,

blocking-of-the-view of a goddamn average victim bastard.

Check your oil?

Check away, Navin R. Johnson.

Oil rag at the ready, sir.

Let's check the oil together.

Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.

Son-of-a-blocking bastard.

Looks good to me, sir, but l'd like your opinion.

Damn these glasses.

lt looks good to me, too.

Hurry up, son, time's a-wastin'.

l'm going to the iohn.

Don't forget to check those tires.

Damn these glasses, son.

Yes, sir, l damn thee.

Damn.

[mumbling]

Damn these glasses!

Sir.

l can fix those glasses.

You can?

Well, here, fix those suckers.

Shit!

Sir? Guess what? l fixed them.

l was back there thinking,

''What causes glasses to slip on and off?''

And it's because when you take them on and off,

you're always putting pressure on the frames like this.

lt causes 'em to spread.

So l put a little handle right here in the center,

and it puts the pressure on the bridge where it belongs,

just like the tie rods on a '72 Buick.

Plus, l put a little nose break on them here

to prevent slippage. Try it.

Use the handle.

Well, l'll be...

lt works.

You know, l make a pretty good living selling shit like this.

l'll tell you what,

if l can develop this gizmo,

l'll split it with you 50150.

Okay, how much do l owe you for the gas?

l got a trunk load of shit to sell.

$26.41 .

Here's $30. Keep the change.

Wow! Thanks.