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: Max, I'm shot. Hoover
: Oh my God. Oh, no. Oh, no. Coolidge
: My psychiatrist is not gonna like this, Max.
[trying to thread a projector
: Damn it! I can't get my finger in there. It won't fit. Esther
: Try your dick.
: Why do you eat while you're working? Why do you eat all the time? Coolidge
: It's all psychological, Max. I eat so I don't think about food.
: How come you got a hot dog in your mouth while you're threading the projector? Why do you eat while you're working? Why do you eat all the time? Coolidge
: It's all psychological, Max. I eat so I don't think about food. Hoover
: Oh... So you eat so you don't think about food. Coolidge
: Yeah. Hoover
: I don't want to butt into your business, but this psychiatrist, the guy you're going to, I think he's in worse shape than you are.
: [riding in the car
] You know, I've been thinking, why is it we always sit in the same place? And why is it you're always the one that drives, Max? Hoover
: I guess it's 'cause I got the keys.
: You okay, Max?