Sam: Woody, we're out of here. You're in charge of the bar.
Woody: Well, why bother, Sam? Whenever you put me in charge, nobody ever listens to me. I just get laughed at, and get drinks poured over my head.
Sam: If anyone does that to you, you just sic Carla on them.
Woody: I'm talking about Carla.
Sam: Oh. All right, listen up, everybody! Whenever Rebecca and I aren't in the bar, uh Woody's in charge.
[As the bar erupts in laughter, Carla pours a drink over Woody's head]
Sam: That better?
Woody: Kind of. At least it's not a margarita. Those get salt in my eyes.