Becky: We're the same, you and me. Except that I shot the President. That's a big job.
Huck: You want me to go down for this.
Becky: Come on. Don't you think if I wanted you to go down for this you'd be in lockdown in the deepest, darkest hole in Gitmo by now? Sweetie, I could've paid for that hotel room with your credit card. I could've spread your DNA all over that place. I could've killed you, made it look like you shot the President and then yourself, but I didn't. I was supposed to, but I didn't.
Huck: How come?
Becky: Because I like you, Huck.