- Are you all right, man?
- I'm fine, Miss Felter.
- (to Gerald) You don't look nothin' like Miss Felter.
- Why are you reading this junk? (Teases) Oh, right, you have a crush on Miss Felter...
- I like poetry, it has nothing to do with her.
- Right. Later, man.
- (As Gerald's walking away)
- Oh soft, what light from yonder window breaks? It is the east...
- (Gerald pauses)
Arnold (In a dreamy voice)
- ... and... Miss Felter is the sun.
Gerald (In disgust)
- That's it, now I'm pukin'.
- Running, always running away from me. Oh, how I long to match Arnold's stride, run with him as one, break the tape at the finish line of life as Mrs. Arnold... Wait, what is his last name?
- You set a beautiful table, my fair señorita. (purrs)
- Do I have to purr?
- Yes, chicks dig the purr!
Arnold (To Miss Felter after Gerald's voice is heard through the walkie talkie that is in Arnold's pants)
- Sometimes my pants... they talk.
- You set a beautiful table, my fair señorita.
- Muchas gracias.
- Aw, enchilada.