Carla: Woody, a beer for Cliff, please. And, uh, I have to get, four, five, six pretzels with the salt brushed off just one side. [sobbing] I touched his skin! Oh, horror, horror!
Frasier: You might pretend it's something less repulsive.
Carla: Less. Less repulsive than Cliff's naked back? Oh! You mean like a dead animal lying on the side of the road squirming with maggots?
Frasier: Precisely. Visualize.
Carla: Visualize! Yeah! I think that can work. Thanks, Doc. It's only maggots. It's only maggots.