Martin: Well, I gotta go.
Penelope: Marty, what's wrong?
Martin: Oh, I'm feeling a little under the weather.
Penelope: Oh, well then maybe you ought to see my doctor. He's here at the party.
Martin: No, I don't need a doctor.
Penelope: Those were my husband's last words. Don't move.
Martin: All right, if you insist. [to Frasier] Pull the car around, I'm going out through the kitchen.