Scott channels Formula One

(After Vettel's car stopped during the Valencia Grand Prix 2012) 
 
Car: "I can haz nap time now?"
Vettel:  "No!  Cannot haz!  Must have fasterz!"
Car: "Shh.  Sleeping."
Vettel:  "Nooo! Do not want!"

Scott tries tech journalism

While reviewing some headphones:

Scott:
"My ears initially cowered before the sight of these mighty godzilla-like headphones, but it was when the music started and each clamshell-earpiece attempted to push my brain out through the opposite ear that I finally knew the true meaning of terror.  I am unable to recall the actually quality of the sound, however I can confirm that the performance of [company's]'s new headphone-monster is equivalent to having two mob enforcers beat your brain into submission with baseball bats."

James:
Scott, you need to get into tech journalism.

"The Spleenhauser XYZ-5BILLION headphones are almost comically expensive. While I will concede that listening to music through them is akin to having each eardrum massaged between the ample breasts of a pair of Teutonic contraltos, for their price I was also hoping for some kind of magically-induced priapism, trickling  down from earholes to groin like some kind of Reaganesque economic delusion."

Scott:
"Auralwombat's new Screaming Weasel XL platinum-plated ultra low impedance headphones produce sound so amazingly clear and vibrant that you will develop an enormous spontaneous erection, even if you lack a penis.  We know this because all the staff here at  Aurgasm Review that tried this set, male and female alike, found that their clothing immediately tore open at crotch level to reveal a rampantly engorged titanesque penis that would not be subdued until the headphones were eventually wrestled off the reluctant reviewer.  Our verdict: a must buy, but not to be used in public spaces."

Scott does not want a ride

Scott:

I should probably mention the *HUGE* huntsman that was sitting on the fence watching me put the washing on the line last night.  I am so not taking the washing off the line when we get home.

James:

You should have tossed a saddle onto it and broken it in. It could have become your trusty steed.

Scott:

I don't know if I want a trusty steed the freaks me the fuck out.  I'd be like a sheriff of the wild west that screams like a little girl every time he has to mount up

James:

"Howdy, I'm Marshall Brennan, and this is my trusty steed, Nightmare Fuel."

Scott:

"Marshall, we're here, you can get off your horse."
"No.  I'll be staying right here thanks."
"But Marshall, you gotta get down from there, you ain't gonna help anyone in the Johnson homestead if ya can't come inside."
"Listen, right now I know exactly where my ride is.  The minute I get off it could end up anywhere.  I ain't movin'."

James:

"Let's head 'em off at the pass! Marshall, saddle up!"
"Uh... can't we walk?"
"What? No, we'll never catch 'em on foot."
"Well, why don't I stay here while you do the heading off and the pass and we-hey...?"
"We need your gun, Marshall! We'll be outnumbered! You gotta come!"
"OH GOD DON'T MAKE ME DO THIS!!!"

Scott:

"You know what the worst bit is?"
"Uh...what's that, Marshall?" 
"I mean, you'd think the worst bit was that its a giant hairy eight legged fanged poison dripping multiple eyed monstrosity, but that ain't the worst bit." 
"Uh...no?  You ok Marshall, you're lookin' like you got some kind o' fever." 
"No, I'll tell you what the worst bit is.  The worst bit is when it decides it wants to climb or down some cliff hundreds of feet high.  I mean, all I got is a saddle and a bridle.  When it does that I...I...I gotta wrap my arms around it and hold on for dear life.  I...I have to touch it.  I have to press myself against it.  That's the worst bit."

James:

"You okay Marshall?"
"Uh... no, not really?"
"Yer lookin' a bit green around the gills there."
"Yeah... my, uh... _horse_... got hungry while I was boundary riding..."
"Oh."
"Yeah, oh. The sound of a whole sheep getting its guts liquefied and sucked out is not something I'm going to forget in a hurry."