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(Friday. INT: apartment, EB and JH are at the table)

JH: So it's good? You like it?
EB: It's like there's a party in my mouth, and Gordon Ramsay showed up. And then you kicked him out after he got drunk and took a swing at the DJ.
JH: Well, it's an omelette. There's, like, three ingredients.
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JH: How was your workout, by the way? What did you do?
EB: Max and I have the same routine, every weekday. Cardio, treadmill, weight machines, and then a half hour self-defense lesson.
JH: Self-defense?
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EB (putting dishes away): Yeah, y'know, take back the night kinda stuff. Yelling "no", throwin' around a guy in a padded suit. That's why I was never really concerned about you being such a creep. I could totally take you, if I had to.
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EB (strikes a pose): In fact, you know what? Come at me. Right now. I wanna show you something.
JH: Okay, either I'm going to molest you or you're going to beat the shit out of me, and either way, I'm unnerved by your enthusiasm.