Turk: Come on, baby. I got the fever for some french toasty toast!
Carla: Turk, please! I'm on the phone.
Turk: French toast!
Carla: [Spanish: "Oh my God, he's obsessed with this brinner idea. The truth is, I'd cook breakfast for dinner if he'd clean up the apartment for once."]
[As Carla continues her Spanish phone call, Turk rushes around the apartment and tidies up.]
Turk: Whatever you're making for dinner tonight, honey, is fine with me.