Gina: Charles, get your chicken leg off my desk. I don't want your money, Boyle.
Charles: What's going on?
Gina: Nothing, I just realized that I just love old, sour bread so much!
Charles: Come on, Gina.
Gina: Fine! I put it under my desk and my space heater burnt it to a crisp.
Charles: [screams] You're a murderer!