Carla: What the hell's going on?
Sam: Carla, I can explain this. [to Carolyn] I'll take you.
Carla: You make me sick.
Sam: I know. [to Carolyn] I'll take you.
Sam: Carla, I'm a weak man. Someday I will find a cure for what I have, but please, let me have this.
Carla: Oh, Sam.
Sam: Hey, come on, don't make me beg. Please, don't make me beg, Carla. Tell your mommy not to make me beg, please.