Sam: Okay, I have something, uh, I have to say here. And, uh, I just want you to promise before I say it that you, uh, won't go crazy.
Diane: Don't worry. I've hit rock bottom. I have no emotions left.
Sam: Oh, all right. Um l, uh, I did copy that poem.
Diane: [flatly] You are scum.
Sam: I tried to make one up myself, but I- I just couldn't, and so I- I copied one. I never thought it would be published, I promise.
Diane: What could you possibly have been thinking of, Sam? It obviously had been published to begin with.
Sam: No, no, no, it hadn't.
Diane: Well, then please tell me. I think you owe me that much. Where did it come from?
Sam: Well, actually, it, uh, came from a letter that you wrote to me.
Diane: One of my letters?
Sam: Mm-hmm. And when you didn't recognize it out there, I decided to play it out, and rub your smug little nose in it. I'm sorry. I probably went too far.