Norm: Uh, but, no, he said he's on his way over here. Sometime, like, uh around nowish.
Rebecca: Now?! God.
[Rebecca rushes to her desk, pulls a comb and mirror out of her handbag, and furiously combs her hair]
Norm: Shall l, uh, comb my hair, too, or will I be leaving?
Rebecca: [answers phone] Rebecca Howe. Oh, hello, Mr. Drake. I thought you were-- Norm. No, no, no, I know you're not Norm. You're Evan. What I meant to say was-- Get out of here. No, no, no, not you. You stay right where you are. No, I swear... [shouts] Get out! Oh. Hello?