Carla: Hey. What's up, Sammy?
Sam: Oh, well, l, uh... My date didn't turn out, and I locked myself out of the bar, and so I need to borrow your keys.
Carla: You have my set.
Sam: No, I don't.
Carla: Yeah. Remember? Woody lost his, so you gave him yours, and then you took mine, and then he lost yours again.
John: [yawns] Oh, I do hope you haven't sold the movie rights to this fascinating story.