Cece: So the good news is you can't see the glitter anymore.
Schmidt: Great. Well, what's the bad news?
Cece: You look like, um... can't exactly put my finger on it.
Schmidt: I look like the dead body the police pull out of a lake.
Cece: That's how you describe it; you look dead.
Schmidt: I don't want to look like a dead boy. I want to look like a living boy.
Cece: Why are you calling yourself a boy?
Schmidt: Because I'm freaking out!