Bebe: Now, it's time we both dropped the masks. You need me, and I want you back. Just sign this contract. I'll cut you a deal that'll make Roz's look like lunch money.
Frasier: Isn't there a zebra carcass somewhere you should be hovering over?
Bebe: You wanna see a carcass, chum? Look in the mirror. Look what you've let that man do to you. Your face is riddled with bird bites, your name's a punchline, and your career is five minutes from over, and he's only been your agent for three days. Send him in against the Hammer and you'll be doing fog reports from a lighthouse in Puget Sound.