Pete: I love this time of year. It's quiet. It used to be like this when I was a kid all the time. I'd lie in bed at night, hear horses going by. Cosgrove: New York in August? It's like a great, big, melting wax museum. Nothing but those fat girls with the hairy armpits putting their feet in the fountain. Harry: You know what? My weekend doesn't look so bad now.

Pete, Harry, and Ken talk about New York in August.