Cameron: [affected accent] The tribe elders foretold that though I lay with fire-haired man, the giving hawk would bring us baby with her skin the color of sweet corn, which my people call maize.
Mitchell: Okay. Please stop.
Mr. Plympton: Well, uh-
Cameron: Knowledge is her sustenance. Like so much maize which, you'll remember, means corn.
Mitchell: What if I was a single dad?