Christmas in Connecticut

Mrs. Lane.
There's something I want to...
This must be telepathy.
I know exactly what you're going to say.

- Do you?
- Yes.

You're inviting me
to your Christmas party.

Well, Mrs. Lane, I'm going to accept
with the greatest of pleasure.

Well, that'd be just wonderful.
I'll be there Christmas Eve.
I was going to be with my family...

...but I'm coming to Connecticut.
Well, why not bring the family too?
Where was Elizabeth when she phoned?
Grand Central Station.
Well, she should be here by now.
I sent her to Yardley to talk him out of it.
Instead, he talks her into it.
- It means she'll lose her job, of course.
- Yeah.

And mine too.
Well, merry Christmas.
Hello, Lizka. Your friends are waiting
in the bar.

- What's the matter? Something wrong?
- Oh, no, no. Just a catastrophe, that's all.

- Sam?
- Yes, sir?

Catastrophe, what is it?
It's from the Greek. It means "a misfortune,
a cataclysm or a serious calamity."

Greek, serious, calamity.
- It is good?
- No, sir. That's bad.

- A double martini, Oscar, please.
- Well?

Every time I opened my mouth, he talked.
I felt like Charlie McCarthy!

Lizka. This catastrophe. It's trouble?
- Yes. I'm going to lose my job, Felix.
- Pish-posh. That's nothing.