Marshall: Oh, yeah.
Lily: Oh, baby. No, no. Not the slipper socks with the rubber soles. I work so hard to-to set the mood, and-and when I see those, I feel the egg go [slurps] right back up my Fallopian tube.
Marshall: Baby, these satin sheets are slippery. Papa needs traction.
Lily: Traction?
Marshall: As you know, Papa likes to get down with enthusiasm.
Lily: Please stop calling yourself "Papa."
Marshall: And without traction, Papa's likely to boogie himself right out of bed. It's either these or soccer cleats.
Lily: [slurps]