Noel: You heard something, didn't you?
Roz: [dazed] Yeah.
Frasier: Roz, are you all right?
Gil: Of course not. She's ashen with terror. Spit it out, Roz. Who's the jack-booted tyrant whose fanny I'll be kissing till God knows when?
Roz: Me.
Gil: Joyful news, your majesty.