Sex, Lies, and Videotape

Well, yes.
Don't tell me.
Don't tell me. Don't tell me. You didn't.
- I did.
- You didn't.

- I did!
- Oh, my God. Cynthia!

You're in trouble.
Listen to you. You sound like Momma.
What are you talkin' about?

God, Cynthia.
- I couldn't do that in front of John.
- You couldn't do it, period.

- I mean, you don't even know him.
- I feel like I do.

You don't.
You can't trust him. He's perverted.

I don't understand why
this freaks you out so much.

You didn't do it, I did, and if it doesn't
bother me, why should it bother you?

- I don't wanna talk about it.
- OK, then, don't.

Are... are you an assassin?
- Ex cuse me?
- You're just an errand boy,

sent by the grocer to collect the bill.
It's my Brando. That's pretty good,
isn't it? Marlon Brando.

It's great. Pardon me.
OK. I was thinkin' we needed time apart.
Maybe you should be there for a while.

Hi. So, why don't you get
an answering machine?

- There's a phone here.
- It's busy.

Well, why don't you keep tryin'?
- Well, here it is.
- What is it?

- It's a sundress.
- Looks like a tablecloth.