OHoward: Look at you, Howard.
Howard: Believe me, I'm looking.
OHoward: Not long ago, I sent you over there like a doe in the woods. Now you're a Spyhunter, bringing me actionable intelligence. I think you owe me some gratitude.
Howard: For what?
OHoward: For waking you the fuck up! What were you before me? Pathetic little meek, sad sack, loyal hubby with your flowers on the nightstand and your fucking poetry. Now look at ya. Now there's something breathing behind those eyes. Are you enjoying yourself with my family?
Howard: They hate you.
OHoward: Yeah, that sounds about right.
Howard: Although, less and less lately. It really hasn't taken that much to steer your life out of a skid. A little kindness. A little attention. You'd be amazed the difference it makes. Where's MY gratitude?
OHoward: You love it, don't you? Running around poking your nose into all the little details of my life, every fiber of my being.
Howard: We've been helping you.
OHoward: We, again.