Reagan: So you all went through my room and you each have things that you would like to discuss. Is that correct?
Cece: That's true.
Schmidt: Yes.
Nick: Chicago.
Cece: So-- the money, the fake I.D.'s.
Reagan: I have fake I.D.'s because hospitals hate pharmaceutical reps and it gets me through the door. I carry Canadian cash because I do a lot of business there and I don't trust banks.
Nick: Who does?
Cece: Okay. All right, fine. What about this, though-- your son? He looks just like you.
Reagan: That is me.
Cece: [quietly] Wait. What?
Schmidt: Oof. Rough haircut.
Reagan: Oh, and if you found something in my room that kind of looks like a hollowed-out hand, that's a glove.