Frasier: Roz, is this the dress you're wearing to the wedding?
Roz: I have to, I'm a bridesmaid.
Frasier: Is there a reason it has to be so, so...?
Roz: Hideous? It's supposed to be, so that way, the bride, by comparison, will glow. Next to this baby, she'll light up like a bug zapper. You know, of all my friends in Wisconsin, this girl was the last one I thought would beat me to the altar.
Frasier: Not the Dairy State's comeliest chunk of cheddar?
Roz: Let's just say she works in her father's ice cream parlor and she eats her mistakes. The groom's family makes cones.
Frasier: Oh, well, we don't need Freud for that, do we?