Debra: "Debra's eyes. Brown as earth, Giveth life to tree and brush. Speckled green, like the breast of a thrush.
Yellow ringed as the sun on a web. So many colors in thine eye, My Deb."
Ray: [laughs] Oh, my God! Oh, my God! Whoo-hoo! Oh, man! That's the poem?
Debra: Don't make fun of it!
Ray: I don't have to. Read it again.
Debra: It happens to be very romantic!
Ray: Yeah, yeah. Read it again.
Debra: No! You don't appreciate it. For your information, he wrote this in the 10th grade, and he ended up going to Yale.
Ray: Not on a poetry scholarship.
Debra: Well, I don't see you writing me any poems!
Ray: I can't now. Chad killed poetry.