Carla: Oh. Everything's unpacked. Your stuff looks great, by the way.
Keith: You mean her stuff. She wouldn't let me put up my stuff.
Elliot: Bup, bup, bup, bup, bup. Everything's awesome, we're great, everything's great.
Keith: What do you mean, we're great? We haven't had box sex in days. Everything was fine, until Elliot broke out with her unending list of insane rules like: Put all open cereal in giant Ziploc bags.
Elliot: Yeah, I don't see what's insane about not wanting spiders to lay eggs in my cornflakes. That's how Carla's mom died.
Carla: No, it isn't.
Elliot: You're supposed to be my best friend!