Egbert

"Well, guess what, Mike. We're hooked into the Dobrekov exhibit on Friday night."

"Oh, God, can you imagine anything more dull? But we gotta do it."

"I don't know why we have to go to the art museum again. They bore me silly and do nothing but give me tired, achy feet. But no, we need to impress Egbert and Rachel. We have to do what THEY want!"

"Sweetie-pie, you know full well that I'm up for the promotion to Director of Public Relations. It's really, really important to me. And Egbert is General Manager at the agency and he'll be making that decision in the next couple of weeks. So work with me here, baby, work with me."

"You'd think you were Darrin Stephens and he was Larry Tate, the way you brown-nose him. Well, this is one Samantha who's not going to back off on her witchcraft. One snide remark from Rachel, and fly me to the moon!"

"Oh, stop it, Jim. You and your 'Bewitched' metaphors. It's not all about suburban misery. Just because I work for an advertising agency doesn't mean that our lives are 'Bewitched' or 'Mad Men.' And keep in mind, ever since you stopped working and you're writing your Great American Novel, I've been bringing the bread home."

"And you've done a very good job of it, honey. But this museum opening. I know nothing about this Dobrekov, what can we expect?"

"Something modern. The flyer for the exhibition has this print with a bunch of lines that look like different flavors of sherbet -- orange, lemon, lime, and raspberry."

"If they're serving raspberry sherbet at the exhibit, I'll go. But not simply for lime. Too tart!"

"Oh, ha ha. But tell you what, after the exhibit, we'll go to the Ramrod. You can get in the leather harness and I'll suck your dick in front of an audience."

"What if Egbert is in the audience? Won't you lose your promotion?"

"People named Egbert aren't allowed in placed named the Ramrod."