[after the bomb incident at Lux Atlantic]

Lisa! Do you have any idea what we've been through? First, there was no reservation. [smiles forcedly at Cynthia] Then, our ceiling exploded. I got chunks of plaster all over me. I could get asthma.

I'm so sorry, Mrs. Taylor. Is there anything we can do to make it up to you?

Yes. Start by cleaning house. Get rid of her. She is completely useless.

Absolutely. And cheeky, too.

I see. Well... [she looks over at Cynthia, then to the Taylors] Here's what you can do. You can fill out a comment card at our front desk.

A comment card? [indignantly to Bob] She asked us to fill out a comment card.

You want us to fill out a comment card?

Yes, I do. And after you've finished, you can go ahead and just shove it up your ass.

[both Taylors are struck dumb by this sentence]

Yeah. [as she walks away with Lisa, arm in arm] You are so my hero.

Let's open the bar.

Champagne?

Oh, anything but a bay breeze.