Maya : It's always the same. My face gets all scrunched up, my eyes are half closed, and I end up looking like...
Dennis : Popeye?
Elliot : A smurf?
Nina : Eleanor Roosevelt sneezing?
Jack : What the hell is a smurf?
Dennis : It's that little blue man on your wife's lunchbox.
Maya : Why do we even need photo IDs?
Dennis : Because otherwise, any lunatic could walk in off the street and do Nina's job.
Jack : What are we talking about?
Maya : Nothing!
Nina : Sex dreams.
Jack : Sounds like fun. Who had a sex dream? I want details.
Dennis : Maya did, about Elliot.
Jack : You people are sick!
Dennis : So, a sex dream. How was I?
Maya : Absent.
Nina : [looking at Maya's ID photo] This picture captures the real you.
Dennis : Someone should, for science.
Jack : So, what's in this thing?
Dennis : It covers everything from employee behavior to fire safety, with just a dash of the Iraqi penal code.
Elliot : No sexual relations between employees? This is an outrage!
Dennis : Relax. Models aren't employees.
Elliot : All hail the manual!
Nina : Wait a minute, you little weasel! "Hemlines shall be in direct proportion to the age of the wearer."
Dennis : It's very simple: if you wore miniskirts in the '60s, spare us in the '90s.
Elliot : Yeah, so cover up those bony broomsticks, will ya?
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