The Strokes Backstage, or Untitled, as I prefer calling it.

Julian: How's my hair? Does it need more greasiness? IS IT GREASY ENOUGH? Nick, you aren't doing your hair! What's wrong with you? We're going on in front of all those people in a few minutes!
Nick: (shrug) I'm cute.
Julian: YOU ASS! I AM THE GOOD LOOKING ONE AND YOU ARE THE GUITARIST WITH MYSTIQUE!
Nick: Right...
Julian: Shut up Nikolai!
Nikolai: I'm sorry master, I'll never do it again!
Julian: Damn straight you won't.
Albert: Can we go on yet? I've only got 40 cigarettes left and I can't run out when people are watching!
Nick: I want a beer.
Julian: Hah. You aren't 21, you loser.
Nick: Girls like me.
Julian: I HATE YOU!
FAAAAB!: I know the Moldy Peaches.
Everyone: Wooooah, FAAAAB!, you are great.
Nikolai: I think it's time to go on now.
Albert: Who the fuck let this guy back here? THIS IS BAND ONLY, BUDDY!
FAAAAB!: He's in the band.
Albert: He is not. Look, he has a combover.
Nikolai: Combovers are people too.
Julian: Shut up Nikolai.
Nikolai: Yes sir.
Julian: Does my hair look ok?

FIN