John: Oh, Sam. I've written up a new agreement stating that since you've agreed to never see my daughter again, you now have full use of the poolroom. That's funny, that looks just like my daughter's suitcase.
Sam: No, that's mine. You know what they say at the airport: "Many bags do look alike."
John: Isn't that her monogram: V.H.?
Sam: Uh, actually I think it used to belong to Van Halen.
John: Sam, indulge me. You're telling me this is your suitcase, so by extension, would this be your negligee?
Sam: All right, the secret's out. I'm a transvestite, John.
John: And a size seven?
Sam: A guy can dream, can't he?
John: Sam, you are not a transvestite.
Sam: Hey, hey, those are fighting words there...