Feherty: "We've got the chubby cheeks here."
McCord: "Well, you're not lacking anywhere, fat boy."
Feherty: "Those are some tight pants. Can we do a yodeling scene?"
McCord, to stylist: "Hey, why did the fat guy get stuck in these pants?"
Feherty: "Forget makeup. I'd need to be made-down to look less magnificent. But you'd need a putty knife to be made presentable. [Looks down] Goodness! My zipper is 18 inches long. What was Stan Laurel packing, an aardvark?"
McCord, zipping up pants: "This must be done in one deep breath."
Feherty, to photographer: "You've got, like, seven frames before something explodes. Is this a photo for Golf Magazine's 50th Anniversary issue or America's Least Wanted?" [McCord struggles to fit in his shoes.]
Feherty: "That's like watching a goat try to put on a wristwatch. And you have lovely legs for a 75-year-old." [They pose nose-to-nose for a photo.]
Feherty: "You've got this rampant nose hair that's trying to take over your f---ing mustache."
McCord: "I want my agent on the phone. I want out."
Feherty, slapping McCord in the crotch: "I felt contact and separation. That was nicely timed."
McCord: "Remember the last time you did that?"
Feherty: "It's been so many times. Oh, at Camp Pendleton? That was brilliant. You think this is intimate? Imagine if we'd agreed to the Brokeback Mountain photo idea. We'd end up married in Vermont."