Ray: All right, if you're gonna do this, then just go home. Tell your story somewhere else.
Robert: Yeah, let's get Ma to make us some hot chocolate.
Frank: Ray, if you need me, I'll be across the street not listening to my favorite jazz records. You never touched my stuff, Robert. It's too bad Ray wasn't more like you.
[As Frank leaves he closes the door behind him, causing Robert to walk into it]
Ray: Putz. P-U-T-Z. The putz walked into the door. Putz.