Pam: What's the matter? You can't sleep?
Greg: No, no, I'm just going over some of my answers from the polygraph test your dad gave me.
Pam: Oh, no, he didn't.
Greg: Yeah, he did.
Pam: Well, did you lie to him?
Greg: No! I mean-- Well, he asked me if we were living together, and-
Pam: What'd you tell him?
Greg: I-I-I-- Nothing. Your mother walked in... and I yanked the little thingies off before I had to answer. Is this how you'd react if I told you he shoved bamboo shoots up my fingernails? Or does he hook all your boyfriends up to his little machine?
Pam: Well, he doesn't need a machine. He's a human lie detector.
Greg: What?
Pam: Greg, my father was never in the rare flower business. That was just his cover. He was in the C.I.A. for 30 years.
Greg: How could you not tell me this?
Pam: I wanted to, honey, but it was strictly...on a need-to-know basis.
Greg: So, what? He's in the C.I.A.? He was a spy? He is a spy?
Pam: No, he was more like a psychological profiler. They used him to interrogate suspected double agents in the company.
Greg: Oh, that's great. Yeah. I was scared of your dad back when I thought he was a florist. It's wonderful to know that I've actually got a C.I.A. spy-hunter on my ass.
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