Earl Chambers: Pritchett? Mitch Pritchett. Son of that son of a bitch Jay Pritchett?
Mitchell: Reporting for duty.
Earl Chambers: Don't bother unpacking that briefcase. I cannot have a Pritchett hanging around here. I got too much sensitive information your dad would love to get his hands on.
Mitchell: That was a takeout menu.
Earl Chambers: I don't want that man to know where I eat.