Officer Goodbody: What's the matter? You never saw a 50-year-old stripper cry before?
Phoebe: You know, it's fine. We'll pay you.
Officer Goodbody: No, no, you're right. Who am I kidding? I should have hung up that breakaway jockstrap years ago. What am I gonna do? I mean this has been my life for 32 years. Taking my clothes off in front of people is all I know.
Rachel: No, there's got to be something else that you can do. I mean, what skills do you have?
Officer Goodbody: I don't know. I can make my pecs dance. I can pick up a dollar bill with my butt cheeks. I can go to that special place inside me where I feel no shame.
Rachel: So maybe something in an office.
Phoebe: Or you could- You could teach stripping. You know, share your gift. Pass the torch.
Officer Goodbody: You know, actually, that's not a bad idea. I could do it out of my apartment. I don't think my mom would mind.
Phoebe: There you go. Okay. You think you're gonna be okay?
Officer Goodbody: Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. This is so weird. You never know when it's gonna be your last dance. And I didn't even get a chance to finish it.
Phoebe: Finish it.
Officer Goodbody: What?
Phoebe: Your last dance. Do it for us.
Officer Goodbody: Really?
Rachel: Really?
Phoebe: Yeah. Yeah, he deserves to do the thing he loves one last time.
Officer Goodbody: Okay. All right. Get ready, ladies.
Phoebe: Oh, this is so hot! Oh, no, no, don't stop.
Officer Goodbody: Have to.