Marshall: Robin. Okay, listen, I need your help. I'm about to get in a screaming match with my boss, and I'm not good at getting screamed at, so I need you to warm me up.
Robin: How?
Marshall: I want you to scream at me. You know, like you do to strangers on the street at the slightest provocation.
Robin: I don't do that.
Marshall: Come on, lay some of that classic Scherbatsky mean son of a bitch on me. Treat me like I'm a Girl Scout trying to sell you cookies.
Robin: Four dollars a box and you're out of Thin Mints?! You green little...! I don't do that!
Marshall: Come on, scream at me.