 You can play Mr. Clean all you want, but don't make me feel guilty. I'm not asking you to do it, Oscar. You don't have to clean up. That's why you make me feel guilty. You're always in my bathroom, hanging up my towels. Whenever I smoke, you follow me around with an ashtray. Last night, I found you washing the kitchen floor, shaking your head, and moaning, footprints, footprints.