Susie Diamond: Oh no, not the goddamn Luau Lounge again.
Frank Baker: What's the matter with the Luau Lounge? They don't salt their peanuts?
Susie Diamond: Singing 'Feelings' knee-deep in paper orchids and plastic tiki lamps is not exactly my idea of a fun evening.
Frank Baker: Fun? Who promised you fun? We get paid, remember.
Jack Baker: You let that guy turn us into clowns tonight. We were always small time, but we were never clowns.
Jack Baker: Frank, if somebody requested "Chopsticks," you'd ask for the sheet music.
Susie Diamond: L stayed at the Hartford one time. You should see the rooms. All satin and velvet. And the bed... royal blue, trimmed in lace clean as snow. Hard to believe a room like that don't change your life. But it don't. The bed may be magic, but the mirror isn't. Still wake up the same old Susie.
Jack Baker: Who I fuck and who I don't fuck is none of your fucking business.
Jack Baker: You look good.
Susie Diamond: You look like shit.
Jack Baker: No, I mean it. You look good.
Susie Diamond: I mean it, too. You look like shit.
Susie Diamond: You don't give a fuck, do you, about anything?
Susie Diamond: So, make any resolutions?
Jack Baker: No, you?
Susie Diamond: Nah, I figure all that stuff's a bunch of crap, anyway. You do what you do, right?
Jack Baker: What's happened to you? Have you been kissing ass so long, you're starting to like it?
Frank Baker: I'm sorry. I'm a bit wound up.
Jack Baker: Frank, you're a fucking alarm clock.
