Newman: Hello, Jerry.
Jerry: Hello, Newman. What gives?
Newman: I was speaking earlier with Kramer and he mentioned something about a private jet to Paris?
Jerry: Yeah, that's right.
Newman: Well, I hear it's quite beautiful there this time of year, and of course you know I'm one-quarter French.
Jerry: Really?
Newman: Oh, yes. In fact, I still have family there. This probably won't interest you, but I have a cousin there who's suffering very badly. She's lost all use of her muscles. She can only communicate by blinking. I would so love to see her, bring a ray of sunshine into her tragic life. But alas, I can't afford it, for I am, as you know, but a simple postal worker.
Jerry: That's a shame.
Newman: Take me! Take me!
Jerry: Oh, forget it. Pull yourself together. You're making me sick. Be a man!
Newman: All right! But hear me and hear me well. The day will come. Oh, yes. Mark my words, Seinfeld. Your day of reckoning is coming. When an evil wind will blow through your little play world, and wipe that smug smile off your face. And I'll be there, in all my glory, watching. Watching as it all comes crumbling down. [evil laugh]