Carrie: Excuse me, Dr. Crane?Dr. Frasier Crane: Hi, Carrie.Carrie: Hi. I have your pants.Bob 'Bulldog' Briscoe: Whoa, doc! [honks horn] Where'd you leave them?Dr. Frasier Crane: They're new, Bulldog. Some of the finer department stores deliver garments to their busier customers.Carrie: Actually, we don't. I just thought it would be nice to see you again.Bob 'Bulldog' Briscoe: Excuse me. You look very familiar. Didn't I let you pour a flaming tequila shooter down my throat at Sloppy Nick's during ah, last year's Indy 500?Carrie: Ahhh, no.Bob 'Bulldog' Briscoe: Well, what are you doing next Memorial Day?Dr. Frasier Crane: Bulldog, as certain as I am that any young lady in the world would love to set your face on fire, Carrie, I believe, is here to see me.Bob 'Bulldog' Briscoe: Okay. Hey, you can't blame a dog for trying. Just on the off chance it might make a difference, I drive a '94 Camaro. [He leaves]Carrie: Is he gay? [Frasier looks at her, surprised] I've been studying about this in school, and it seems like he's really overcompensating.Dr. Frasier Crane: Yes, well, I'm not sure. But I certainly look forward to running that theory by him.
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