Carla: Oh my God, he's actually giving him an orange soda.
Elliot: What happened?
Janitor: He's gonna reconsider you.
Elliot: How'd you do that?
[flashback to a moment ago:]
Janitor: Hey, buddy. I need you to reconsider Blonde Doctor. And I'm gonna tell you why. See, I'm the future Mr.
Blonde Doctor? And I kinda need this to happen so that I can- Uh, hey, over here. I need this to happen so that I can just hang out around the house and, you know, bake bread or gab across the fence with neighbor Marge. Nice lady. Polish, I think. Doesn't matter, I'm not prejudiced.
Man: What the hell are you talking about?
Janitor: Here's the thing: I need you to take this can of orange soda, turn, smile, and give Blonde Doctor a big thumb's up. Or, I'm gonna take the same orange soda, follow you down to the parking lot, and smash your head in with it.
[present:]
Janitor: We talked about your future.