 Okay, what's the bet? Oh, I can't believe it. We're going to play cards again. It's up to Roy. Roy, baby, what are you going to do? I'm going to get in a cab and go to Central Park. If I don't get some fresh air, you got yourself a dead accountant. What do you mean? It's not even 12 o'clock. Look, I've been sitting here breathing Lysol and ammonia for four hours. Nature didn't intend for poker to be played like that. If you want to have a game next week, either Louis Pasteur cleans up after we've gone, or we play at the Hotel Dixie. Good night.