shopping at Walgreens.
He's got his Brut collection.
-At least I'm always ready for the ladies.
-Hey, man, try some soap.
I did. It got lonely.
Sick. You're sick. Okay.
Confirm transfer to First National.
[SPEAKlNG IN FRENCH]
TERRY:
Bonjour,
Jean-Claude.
Bonjour,
Terry.
Look at this. He says,
"Bonjour. What's the skinny?"
Am I teaching him,
or am I teaching him?
-"What's the skinny?"
-What's the skinny?
-What's the skinny? What's the buzz?
-Oh, yeah, I knew what it was.
TERRY: How did everything work out
with Paulette?
"Made love all weekend"?
God, I gotta meet this guy.
You shouldn't chitchat.
You're gonna get in trouble.
Terry!
Terry!
False alarm.
TERRY: I knew it. This is code for,
"Terry, come adjust my chair. "
Now, you're gonna have this baby.
It's gonna have a head like the monitor.
It's gonna say "Sperry"
across the top of it, and you know--
There she is, Miss Russian Aerobics!
TERRY:
Oh, not again.
-This is the third time this week.
-Russian TV piped into Terry's monitor.
Every time I turn around,
this chick is on my monitor.
CYNTHIA:
I hate to see a woman like that.
FRED:
What a woman.
-Larry, your girlfriend's here.
FRED: Don't tell him. He'll defect.
DOUG: Is that a woman?
WOMAN: I wish I could do that.
-I'm not gonna watch.
-Look at that nick on her leg!
Don't shave with a sickle, baby.
Cut it out. Turn my knobs, please.
FRED: She'd crush bowling balls
between those thighs.
-I'm getting seriously aroused here.
-The shielding on the I/O port is loose.
-How's that?
-I don't know how you know to do that.
It's like an electrical gift.
FRED:
I know where all our wheat went.
Aw!
It's almost time
for Leave It to Brezhnev.
No, it's time for Gilligan's Gulag.
Terry.
-Mr. Page would like to see you.
-Uh-oh.
Well, I'm standing right here.
It's not like he could miss me.
MR. PAGE:
Miss Doolittle, in my office right now.
CYNTHIA: She fixed it.
WOMAN: What's she in trouble for?
I can accept certain
of your eccentricities...
...because you're one of my
most productive employees.
Thank you, Mr. Page.
However, these are your printouts
for last week.
How would you define your job here,
Miss Doolittle?
To transfer funds,
accept transfer of funds...
...between international
banking establishments...
...using the computer so that the
transferred funds are easily called upon.
How were you taught
to end a transmission?
-I enter the phrase, "end trans."
-And yet look here.
Look how you ended your transmission
to Mr. Dennis Bramlett...
...of Barclays Bank
of London last week.
"Dennis, will trade you my Springsteen
bootleg for your Moot the Hoople. "
Mott the Hoople. He's a Springsteen fan.
I entered "end trans. "
And then there's Mr. loto
of the Hansu Tokyo Bank.
I believe this is a recipe
for a Yankee pot roast.
A man gets tired
of raw fish all the time.
And I'm not even going to begin to
discuss your advice to Jean-Claude.
Perhaps I should call you Dr. Ruth!
-Mr. Page, I was trying to be friendly.
-Computers are not friendly.
-I'm not a computer, Mr. Page.
-From 9 to 6, five days a week, you are.
You'll represent this bank professionally,
or you will not represent it at all!
End trans?
End trans.
Hi, Fritz. How is the missus?
-Delete, delete...
DOUG: Six o'clock!
-...delete, delete, delete, delete....
-Karen!
FRED:
Enjoy your party, dreamboat.
-Call us when the baby comes.
-Jackie, good luck with your baby.
Fred and I chipped in most
for your present.
TERRY:
End trans.
JACKIE:
Well, I won't miss you.
FRED:
Karen, we'll see you later at Cole's.
Could you tell my replacement
I ordered another chair?
And it should be in
by the end of the month.
Sure.
-Thanks for everything, Terry.
-Oh, come on, don't cry.
Come on.
Hey, now, wipe your eyes, huh?
Makeup's running.
People gonna think somebody
hit you in the eye, girl.
Where's the party, baby?
I'm waddling over.
Right behind you.
You waddle on in.