Don't go baby, don't put me out on the street. You threw my best sharkskin suit out on the lawn, right on top of some dog waste (I hold in my hand three letters from the stages of your fine, fine, super-fine career . . . ) and my best white shirts with the Mr. B collar laying all over the front lawn. Where's my cuff links? Lemme back in dere. Dere? Ha!
"Huffa puffa, Huffa puffa
There's no room to breathe in here"
"That's alright honey. You can come out of the closet now"