Mr. Sheridan: Boy, Buster's frisky. [chuckles] I was playing "get my thumb," and he was practically bouncing off the ceiling.
Rebecca: Well, I bet he was just so glad to have you back.
Mr. Sheridan: Yeah. Well, I'm gonna feed him now, Miss Howe.
Rebecca: No, I already fed him. We ordered out. Chinese. [dogs growling, barking]
Mr. Sheridan: That sounds like two dogs in there.
Rebecca: Mr. Sheridan, there's something that I've been wanting to ask you. Is this a bowling trophy?
Mr. Sheridan: No, it's my late wife's ashes.
Rebecca: She was a good-sized woman.