Smash: Hey, Waverly, how's the tuba looking?
Waverly: Bright and shiny like your forehead, and it's a trumpet. How's the endless speculation of who's going to win that game you guys were talking about going?
Smash: Yeah, well, it's not like my whole life don't hang in the balance. Is that why you walked out on me at the diner yesterday?
Waverly: I—I didn't walk out on you. You weren't talking to me anyway.
Smash: I was sitting right next to you.
Waverly: That is so not the same thing.