Debra: I was thinking, that health insurance has to be in tomorrow. Did you finish it yet?
Ray: Health insurance? You know, I want to. I want to. But I've just been, you know so down. Maybe you should-
Debra: What?
Ray: Well, this is very important, and I don't think we should trust it to somebody like me. [eats ice cream] "Mmm, fudgy."
Debra: All right. That is it. You know, at first, I felt bad because you were so depressed. But now I think you're really milking it here.
Ray: What do you mean?
Debra: Oh, what, you don't think I see through this?
Ray: What do you mean?
Debra: I don't believe you, Ray. Making me feel guilty, you little weasel.
Ray: Oh, I'm depressed again.
Debra: Listen, do the health insurance, you big fake. "Mmm, Fudgy!" Give me that. [takes ice cream]
Ray: You know, I read that the happiest marriages are the ones where the man is smarter.
Debra: Guess who wrote that? Get the door. It's that big wooden thing with the knob that's not your head.