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| - :Stan: I promise when you start to sag, to subject you to risky elective surgery.
: Francine: And I promise to be with you only if you make money and stay healthy.
:Stan: Alzheimer's runs in my family.
:Francine: You'll be dealing with that solo.
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:Roger/Jeannie Gold [to Steve, who has just had his chest sliced open and then stitched up by Roger]: Try not to pass out, today's not about you.
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:Roger/Jeannie Gold: Jeannie Gold, wedding planner. This is my emergency wedding kit; everything you need for last minute snaffoos. Needle and thread, bandaids for sore heels, fake hymens for those not so well-behaved middle eastern brides. These beauties are packed full of ox blood. Trust me, that bedroom will look like the set of a Wes Craven movie the next morning.
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:Roger/Jeannie Gold: Stan, these are my sons, Alex and Ron. They're in Columbia Film School.
:Stan: How is that possible?
:Roger/Jeannie Gold: I know. I look too young to have kids in college.
:Stan: No, that you have children when your persona is completely fabricated...
:Roger/Jeannie Gold: We are the music makers. We are the dreamers of dreams.
:Stan: That is an unsatisfying answer.
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:Roger/Jeannie Gold: Stan, remember the first rule of any wedding is that the bride is always beautiful. The second rule you can read on my website. You have to be eighteen to log on. I have some sexy barnyard stuff on there that is NOT for everyone; I could get in a lot of trouble. If you do decide to check it out you need to clear your history right away. You may need to uninstall your browser. I'm telling you scrub that thing clean. If you think you're being too cautious, you're not. They will take us both to jail.
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:Roger/Valik: Listen to Jeannie or I cut you.
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:Roger/Jeannie Gold: Two weeks from today, Francine, You will be here, walking down the aisle. I've recreated the menu, the flowers I even have a string quartet playing the score from "Room with a View".
:Francine: We didn't have that at our wedding.
:Roger:/Jeannie Gold: After your reception, when you and Stan drove away in the limo, You heard a song playing from a third story window. You didn't know what it was, But secretly wished you had walked down the aisle to it.
:Francine: How did you... I never shared that with anyone.
:Roger/Jeannie Gold: Last Wednesday, when you were in the bath, I snuck up and ethered you good. While in your twilight state, you admitted your regret. You hummed that song for me. I had a top musicologist beside me and he identified it.
:Francine: He saw me naked?
:Roger/Jeannie Gold: Honey, please. He's a musicologist. He sees it every day.
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