Tommy: Alissa? Does your streetlight sometimes look like a flaming, disembodied head?
Alissa: Oh, Tommy. I've missed your sense of humor. You know, I went out with some other boys after we broke up, but don't be mad.
Tommy: It could be swamp gas. Are we near a swamp?
Alissa: But nobody was like you. I've decided to forgive you. [knock on door]
Tommy: I'm a guest. You should get that.