Married... With Children

Al: Where were you when the lights went out? Vanessa: I was outside in the rain. Al: Were you? I prefer to think that you're the killer! Vanessa: That's ridiculous. You have no proof. Al: And don't I? Sit down. (She sits on the table and Al takes off one of her shoes) I say that you never did go outside that night. That you waited by the door for the right moment, hit the light switch, dumped the vase on yourself to get wet, and stabbed your uncle! Vanessa: You still haven't proved anything. Al: When we met, I couldn't help but notice your shoes, the same shoes you have on now. I used to sell shoes... for years. Well, when I was a teenager, not when I'm grown up because a real man wouldn't have a job like that. And I recognize these shoes. The Malaysian A-220 stilettos, so cheap that the only ones who wear them are beggars and wives of shoe salesmen. You couldn't have gone outside that night or any other night because these shoes are so cheaply constructed that they fall apart on contact with water, like this. (He drops the shoe into the fish tank and pulls it out, with the sole almost completely off)

Al: So I ran. You would too if you had a price on your head and a bad burrito in your belly.

Al: Don't shoot me! I'm a shoe salesman.