Bart: Put it all on my credit card, my good man.
Comic Book Guy: Ooh, pardon me, “Santos” – if that is your real name, Bart Simpson – but your credit card is not good here. Make like my pants and split.
Salesman: I see, you do have a receipt, quote-unquote, sir?
Comic Book Guy: No, I do not have a receipt. I won it as a prize at the Star Trek convention, although I find their choice of prize highly illogical as the average trekker has no use for a medium size belt.
Salesman: Whoa, whoa, a fat, sarcastic Star trek fan! You must be a devil with the ladies.
Comic Book Guy: Hey, I, uh, de-oh...
Salesman: Gee, I hate to let you down, Casanova, but no receipt, no return.
Bart: I'll give you four bucks for it.
Comic Book Guy: Huuuh. Very Well. I must hurry back to my Comic Book Store where I dispense the insults rather than absorb them.
Lady: Comb the Sweet Tarts out of your beard, and you got yourself a deal.
Comic Book Guy: Don't try and change me baby. (suggested by david martin)