Chuck: Well, hello, angel. You must be my lucky night. And with taste to boot.
Jenny: Apparently not. I’m talking to you.
Chuck: Beautiful and mean? I’ve got chills. Care to dance with a poor devil?
Jenny: Why don’t we skip all that, and, uh, go somewhere to talk?
Chuck: I’ll get the champagne.
Jenny: Meet me in five.
…
Chuck: Boo.
Jenny: Let’s play a game.
Chuck: I’d say strip poker, but I don’t have my cards.
Jenny: How about, uh, hide-and-seek? You hide, I’ll seek.
Chuck: And how will you find me? I don’t have any bread crumbs.
Jenny: Well, you can leave me a trail… with your clothes.
Chuck: I have truly died and gone to heaven.
...
Chuck: Feel free to find me.
Jenny: I found your pants.
Chuck: Well, you're getting warmer, which is an achievement considering you're already hot.
Jenny: Well, you better hope it doesn't get any cold.
Chuck: What is that supposed to mean? What the hell?! Hey, my phone is in my pants, and I'm stuck up here, bitch!
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