Debra: Maybe you should get outta here, Ray? You never know when I'm gonna touch you in a non-sexual way.
Ray: Oh, come on. Don't be mad.
Debra: Don't be mad?
Ray: Look, you wanna know something? I'll tell you the truth. This whole thing is my grandmother's fault. Nonny Barone.
Debra: Yes, of course, Nonny Barone, the woman who brought dysfunction to America.
Ray: No, this is gonna sound dumb, but, every summer we had to visit her in Yonkers. She had this tiny apartment. Robert and I went to bed on the fold-out couch. All night long, he'd be up against me. I couldn't breathe. I was like, suffocating. I couldn't do anything. I couldn't say anything because he'd wake up and then he'd laugh and try to crush me. And if I screamed to stop him, Nonny Barone would come in and yell at me for the screaming. So, most nights I just lay there awake. That's it. I don't know. I've never gotten over that. I'm sorry. I never thought about it before, but that's gotta be it, you know? But listen, it's my problem, all right? You just-- you touch me all you want. I'll huddle, cuddle, hug, snug. Do it all because it'll be good for me.