Marshall: No, no, wait! Please, it's not my fault! I was tricked!
Carl: Not cool, Marshall. This is a nice bar. Girls come here, they just want to relax with their friends, maybe have a few Robin Scherbatskys, and not have to worry out some guy pulling a Marshall Eriksen in the bathroom.
Marshall: No, no, no, I know. I just... Wait a minute, did you just use my name as shorthand for a guy being creepy?
Carl: Yep.
Marshall: Well, you know what, Carl? I think that you are making a broad and prejudicial assumption. So next time I meet a guy who just goes around rushing to judgment, I'm gonna say, "Hey, that guy's being a real Carl..."
Carl: You don't know my last name. You've been drinking here for years, and you don't know my last name. I will name every drink in this bar after you if you can tell me my last name.
Lily: Well, that just seems confusing. How will you know what people are ordering?
Carl: What's my last name, Marshall?
Marshall: It's Carl...'s Junior.