Max: So it does bother you when Keith stares hours on end at some naked woman? Even if she has a body like uh...
Syclaire: This one. (hands her a picture)
Regine: Max, try and climb outta the gutter, huh? Come on, honey, I am aestically mature.
Max: Sign me up as your next nude model. I vant to be art.
Khadijah: Girl, why don't you just go to the top of the World Trade Center, flash New Jersey, and straight get it out of your system?
Max: Nope, I'm serious. I want to be taken seriously. I would love to be immoralized by an artist.
Ketih: Well, I'm not the one. I'm going out with Regine.
Max: The Bohemian? Or could it be that her love of art isn't nearly as deep as her fear of the power of my nakedness?
Regine: Go ahead and pose you freak.
Max: Oh...oh, yes. I think I know this brother. I think I know him.
Khadijah: Max, you can only see this guy from the waist down.
Max: That's pretty much how the date went.
Regine: You have to paint her, because I don't know if she could handle yet another man telling her to forget it once he's seen her with her clothes off.
Khadijah: Well, Kyle, if you're bored why don't you just ask for your old job back?
Kyle: Khadijah, the Kyle career elevator only goes in one direction, baby-- That's up. I'm beginning the only way to preserve my sanity is go in there tomorrow and resign.
Khadijah: Well, I'm with you on whatever you decide, 100 percent. Unless you get to borrowin' money from me.
Regine: Wouldn't you like something to drink before you get started?
Max: No. I just want to get naked!
Regine: Max, what are you doing...? Oh, that's right. Today's the day that my baby is painting stick figures.
Keith: You look great. Baby, what are you doing here? I didn't expect you.
Max: Oh, please. Pavlov's dog's were less predicatble.
Jeffrey: If you can put up with this kind of boredom for five, ten years without cracking, you're corner office material. Even if you crack, we won't fire you. We'll just put you on the 13th floor and medicate you.
Max: All I know is that when my drawers hit the floor, the meter started. You owe me thirty-five bucks.
Keith: I didn't even paint you.
Max: Okay. Then you owe me fifty bucks for being a tease.
Max: I knew it! All this talk about you being aesthetically mature. Ha! Phooey! Oh, I'm just so fine you just can't stand it!
Regine: My goodness, Max. Strippers at marine bases have more shame.
Max: Keith, could you turn up the heat? I wouldn't want to blind you with my high beams.
Keith: Synclaire, Khadijah, what are y'all doing here?
Khadijah: I wanted to see this free-for-all, but Synclaire insisted that we have an excuse. (snaps fingers)
Synclaire: Maxine, uh, this important carpet cleaning offer addressed to you came to us by mistake.
Khadijah: Feel better?
Synclaire (giggling): Aw, yeah! Watch the show!
Khadijah: Hey, what's up, Reverend Taylor?
Rev. Taylor: Not your attendance at church.
Synclaire: I wake her up every Sunday morning, but Satan lulls her right back to sleep, sir.
Keith: These are mostly nudes.
Synclaire: Ah, life renderings. Capturing the human spirit. Whoa! Look at the ta-ta's on this one!
(Regine walks downstairs in a black outfit)
Max: Aah! It's the princess of darkness!
Syclaire: Regine, that's cute. You look like a felt tip pen.