Concierge: Who d'ya want?
Leo: I beg your pardon?
Concierge: Who d'ya want? Nobody gets in the building unless I know who they want. I'm the "consy-urge". My husband used to be the "consy-urge", but he's dead. Now I'M the "consy-urge".
Max: We are seeking Franz Liebkind.
Concierge: Oh... the Kraut! He's on the top floor, apartment 23.
Max: Thank you...
Concierge: ...But you won't find him there... he's up on the roof with his boids. He keeps boids. Dirty... disgusting... filthy... lice-ridden boids. You used to be able to sit out on the stoop like a person. Not anymore! No, sir! Boids!... You get my drift?
Leo: We... uh... get your "drift". Thank you, madam.
Concierge: I'm not a "madam"! I'm a "consy-urge"!
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