Tripp: you’re not allowed to smoke on flights, Lana.
Lana: Parliament’s on fire and his hands are up
Tripp: No one’s hands are up! *cough* just put that out!
Lana: *picks up Tripp’s whiskey and take’s a long sip*
Aziraphale: Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking –
Crowley: I’M the captain. You’re the lame ass co-pilot, let’s be real.
Aziraphale: …this is your CO-pilot speaking. We will now be coming around with food and beverages for purchase.
J.D.: I wonder if they serve Appletini’s on this flight.
Stewardess: Would you guys like to purchase any food or beverages?
Lana: Diet Mountain Dew, baby.
Tripp: Huh.. finally you’re lyric problem actually makes some fucking sense. Do you have any ZzzQuil? Maybe a horse tranquilizer? Anything to help me sleep. Seriously.
Stewardess: I’m sorry, sir, but we don’t sell drugs on this flight, much to Crowley’s dismay. Aziraphale insisted on it.
J.D.: drugs are dangerous, you know.
Tripp: How about I pay you $30 to punch me in the face as hard as you can? Knock me the fuck out so I don’t have to deal with these lunatics.
Stewardess: I’m sorry, sir. I can offer you some booze?
Tripp: *sigh* Whiskey, please.