Mr. Ehlert: Here's the thing, Frances. The truth is, you don't look nice today. And since there's no real way to say this, I'm just gonna say it. I'm gonna have to let you go.
Frankie: Let me go... unless I sell more cars?
Mr. Ehlert: Let me rephrase that. I'm letting you go.
Frankie: Unless I start being more on time?
Mr. Ehlert: Frances, don't make this harder on me than it is. I just can't afford to carry this many people when business is slow. It's not you. It's the economy.
Frankie: Is this because I dozed off in the back of the minivan? I'm gettin' that checked out. It might have something to do with my iron levels.
Mr. Ehlert: I don't want to hear about any lady parts! Look, this is all based on seniority. Don't get me wrong. You're plenty old. But you were the last one hired.
Frankie: Wait. What? This is real? You're really firing me? You can't do that. My son's going to college. We just found out Sue's gonna have a palate expander.
Mr. Ehlert: Look, Frances, if the economy picks up and things change, feel free to come back and... buy a car.