Rebecca: Let's go, Sam. We're leaving. I have a cab outside.
Sam: Beckita, what are you doing here?
Rebecca: I took the liberty of stopping by your room and packing your bags. I can't believe you didn't pack one pair of underpants. Now come on, we're going home.
Sam: Home? Sweetheart, I'm... This is home. I love this place.
Rebecca: Sam, we are leaving and we are leaving now. I am not going to get stuck with Martin.
Sam: Oh, right, right. The little one. Uh, sweetheart, yeah, I got to tell you, I think it's high time you told him the truth.
Rebecca: I can't tell him the truth. I'll get fired.
Sam: Well, they, uh, they got plenty of good job opportunities down here. Can you paint pictures on turtles?
Rebecca: Sam, I am asking you, not as a woman speaking to a man, I am asking you as a friend. Please, Sam. When you look back at all the countless, selfish, petty, vindictive things you've done in your life, wouldn't it be wonderful if you could say for one brief moment that you did something good and fine?
Sam: This shouldn't be turning me on, should it?