Tommy: We're just practicing for the prom.
Don: Oh, the prom. One of the most grueling nights of the year for us boys in blue.
Harry: How come?
Don: How come? Prom night has all the ingredients of a tragedy. Take a couple of teenagers, throw in a bottle of scotch lifted from daddy's liquor cabinet, stir in a dash of loud music, and you've got a deadly cocktail.
Harry: I thought that was a Long Island Iced Tea.
Don: Do those have teenagers in them?
Harry: No.
Don: Then it isn't!