Sam: All right, it's okay. I know things haven't gone exactly great up to this point, but they will, they will. I'll think of something.
Cliff: Hey, skimpy outfits on the waitresses, Sammy.
Sam: That's not bad.
Carla: Wait a minute. Wait a minute. I don't want people having to look at something I'm ashamed of.
Sam: You got a lovely body.
Cliff: Yeah.
Carla: I'm talking about hers.
Cliff: You see, Sammy, topless waitresses, scientific fact, they can deliver drinks faster than their clothed counterparts.
Carla: Just forget it, Clavin. This is just your slimy way of trying to cop a look at my tooters.