[after the bomb incident at Lux Atlantic]
Marianne Taylor:
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.
Lisa Reisert:
I'm so sorry, Mrs. Taylor. Is there anything we can do to make it up to you?
Marianne Taylor:
Yes. Start by cleaning house. Get rid of her. She is completely useless.
Bob Taylor:
Absolutely. And cheeky, too.
Lisa Reisert:
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.
Marianne Taylor:
A comment card? [indignantly to Bob] She asked us to fill out a comment card.
Bob Taylor:
You want us to fill out a comment card?
Lisa Reisert:
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]
Cynthia:
Yeah. [as she walks away with Lisa, arm in arm] You are so my hero.
Lisa Reisert:
Let's open the bar.
Cynthia:
Champagne?
Lisa Reisert:
Oh, anything but a bay breeze.