Maitre D': Is there a problem, Doctor?
Sam: No, no, no problem at all. Um I'll just use my credit card here.
Maitre D': Mm, very well. Uh, Dr. Weinstein, this appears to be the credit card of a Mr. Sam Malone.
Sam: Let me see that. Well, I'll be darned. You know, I must have, uh, switched wallets with this Malone character. You know, I bet it happened at the club. Yes, it did; I remember him now. A baseball player. Malone. You, uh, you ever heard of him?
Maitre D': No.
Sam: Oh, well, why don't you, uh, put it on this credit card anyway, and I'll take this Malone guy out to dinner some other time, hmm?
Maitre D': I'm afraid not.
Sam: Well, all right, I don't suppose you take a personal check, do you?
Maitre D': And whose name would be on that?
Sam: Okay, well, uh, why don't we try this, then? Oh, my God, look at the size of that cat! [runs away]
Maitre D': Hey, you, come back here!