Justin’s Manager: Justin! You can’t make a Christmas album right now! You’re too drunk!
Justin Wilson: You, you a shut you mouf. Ahm Juhsteen Weehlsohn, and ah cahn do whatevah (burp) I wahnt. Now, you hand ovah dat (belches, stumbles around to keep his balance) mahkrophohe, and you, you let me do mah ting (vomits, falls down on the floor).
Justin’s Manage: (talking to himself) Why did I ever think it would be a good idea to be a manager for a Cajun?