Bob: I stole a customer from Pete. I'm a dead man. Dead, dead, dead.
Frankie: You stole a sale from Pete in real life? Not that dream you have?
Bob: Yes. This guy he'd been working with came in on Pete's day off and I told him Pete had been shot, and I closed the sale.
Frankie: That must have been a rush.
Bob: I felt like a god.
Pete: Ladies.
Bob: Always funny, Pete. [laughs] [quietly to Frankie] He knows. If he goes for my face, don't let them rebuild it with putty. It never looks natural.