Jazz: Hey, Mr. Banks, I just wanted to say...
Philip: Oh, that's okay, Jazz. You don't have to thank me.
Jazz: Thank you? Damn, a coat of paint in a roach motel and you're all over yourself. I came to make you an offer.
Philip: Offer?
Jazz: Yeah, an offer to withhold my rent until I can come up with it.
Philip: Not on your life.
Jazz: Very well, then. Thank you for considering my proposal. Have a nice day. [stairs creak] Hey, landlord. Do I detect a hazardous stairwell? [yells] [thudding]
Philip: Ooh. My God.
Will: Uh, that's okay, Uncle Phil. His rent check would have bounced too.