Pam:
Hey Warren, is there anybody in this place you could vouch for to give me a ride home?
Stuntman Mike:
[tosses keys across table in front of Pam]
Fair lady, your chariot awaits.
Pam:
You've been eavesdropping?
Stuntman Mike:
[chuckles]
Eavesdropping and can't help but hear, I think I belong in the latter category.
Pam:
So, uh, "icy hot", you're offering me a ride home?
Stuntman Mike:
I'm offerin' you a lift, if, when I'm ready to leave, you are too.
Pam:
And when are you thinking about leaving?
Stuntman Mike:
Truthfully, I'm not thinkin' about it. But when I do, you will be the first to know.
Pam:
Will you be able to drive later?
Stuntman Mike:
I know looks can be deceiving, but I'm a teetotaler. I've been drinking club soda and lime all night, and now I'm buildin up to my big drink.
Pam:
Which is what?
Stuntman Mike:
Virgin Pina Colada.
Pam:
[pause]
Okay. Why would someone who doesn't drink spend hours at a bar, drinking water?
Stuntman Mike:
You know, a bar offers all kinds of things other than alcohol.
Pam:
Hmm, really. Like what?
Stuntman Mike:
[pause]
Women. Nacho Grande platters. The fellowship of some fascinating individuals, like Warren here.
Pam:
Fair enough. So what's your name, icy?
Stuntman Mike:
Stuntman Mike.
Pam:
[pause]
"Stuntman Mike's" your name?
Stuntman Mike:
You can ask anybody.
Pam:
Hey Warren, who is this guy?
Warren:
Stuntman Mike.
Pam:
And who the hell is Stuntman Mike?
Warren:
He's a stuntman.
