Lily: Hey, maybe you can't dunk anymore. But you've achieved more in your 30 years than that 15-year-old dweeb could ever dream of. You put yourself through Columbia Law School. You had the sense to chop off that stupid rat tail. And you married a smoking-hot chick who looks nothing like your mother. I think that earns you an entire foot closer to dunking. There you go, Vanilla Thunder.
Marshall: Step back.
[Marshall tries to dunk the basketball, but grazes the bottom of the net and falls to the ground in agony]
Lily: Oh, baby. How about instead of dunking, we go up to your office, and you lie very still while I go bananas all over you?
Marshall: Could we maybe instead just do it right here?
Lily: Sure, baby.