Vince Noir: Seriously though, you should check out my icy wardrobe.
Howard Moon: What, the human Coke can?
Vince Noir: This is the glam rock ski suit!
Howard Moon: The arctic is no respector of fashion, Vince. You know, never take the tundra lightly. It can drive a man insane. You know what it is about this place, that can get to a man?
Vince Noir: Not really.
Howard Moon: Have a look through there, what do you see?
Vince Noir: [looks through binoculars] Nothing.
Howard Moon: Exactly. It's the nothingness... the whiteness... the endless... ness. Stretching on beyond the human imagination. Desolation of the soul. Oh my Gooooooooooood!
[raps]
Howard Moon: Ice floe, nowhere to go / Ice floe, nowhere to go / Lost in the blinding whiteness of the tundraaaaaa / Check him out.
[Vince dances]
Howard Moon: They call him the shrew! Arms in short, then with the claw!
Vince Noir: I'm little Johnny Frostbite, moving around / Freezing you up, freezing you down / Like an icicle / Coming in your tent in the pink light, scissorbite/
Vince Noir, Howard Moon: Arctic death!
Vince Noir: Infinite night!
Howard Moon: Call me Tundra Boy / Cause I move like an arctic
Vince Noir, Howard Moon: Lizard!
Howard Moon: When the blizzard strikes / I disappear like a pipe dream
Vince Noir, Howard Moon: All that's left is the gleam!
Howard Moon: On a tent peg
Vince Noir, Howard Moon: Boosh, Boosh / Stronger than a moose / Don't lock your door or we'll come through your rooftop / Stop, look around, take your mind off the floor / Cause the Boosh is loose / And we're a little bit raaaaw! /Ice floe, nowhere to go / Ice floe, nowhere to go / Lost in the blinding whiteness of the tundraaaa!
Howard Moon: ...yeah?
Vince Noir: All right! You proved your point, in song format!
Howard Moon: Yeah, well maybe you'll take this place a bit more seriously now.
[gets hit in the face with a snowball]
