Tom: You told me. You told me you wanted an opening relationship on our fucking wedding night. Shiv: This. Oh. So you've been stewing on that? Tom: Why yes, I have been stewing on it. I'm not a hippy, Shiv. I don't want to stuff a dildo up my, I don't want to do threesomes! Shiv: OK! Tom: On our WEDDING NIGHT? Bang! Shanghaied into an open-borders free-fuck trade deal. Shiv: It was just an idea. Tom: Well, that's, that's a biggie just to throw in at the altar. You know? I do, I do, but I do maybe also demand to gobble the odd side dick. Shiv: Gobble the odd side dick. Tom: I don't think it was cool what you did. I just, you know, I think a lot of the time, if I think about it, I think a lot of the time, I'm really pretty unhappy. Shiv: What are you saying? Tom: I don't know. I love you, I do. I just, uh, I wonder if, I wonder if the sad I'd be without you would be less than the sad I get from being with you.
Gil: Do you know what is special about the hours between 3 a.m. and 5 a.m. on the night of March 12? Tom: Uh, no sir. Gil: That was the only two-hour period in which you did NOT send an email to Mr. Hirsch with the title You Can't Make a Tomlet Without Breaking Some Gregs. You send the same email to him 67 times in one evening. Tom: I guess it was a joke [snickers nervously].