Ernest P. Worrell: You see that guy?
Prison guard: Yeah, so?
Ernest P. Worrell: He's not on the jury duty, because this man is a prisoner!
Prison guard (Thinking Ernest is Nash): Ugh! I oughta throw in the hole for that Nash!
Ernest P. Worrell: The hole?
Prison guard: Yeah! The hole!
Ernest P. Worrell: The hole like, like in "Solitare the Hole" Like, in a real prison? Like in real, really, really, really, really real prison? The hoose-gow, the slammer, the joint, Alcatraz, San Quentin, Sing Sing, Oh no. I'm in... I'm in... jaaaaaaaaaa-jail-jail-jail!
Prison guard: (laughs sternly)
[Note: The three ["jail"]'s following his yelling refers to echoes that are heard after the camera has panned far out.]
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