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Summer of '47 LIZ: Oh, Max...look, I don't know what to do. Calls keep on coming into Congresswoman Whitaker's office. Should I return them or...
MICHAEL: Not now.
LIZ (to Max): We'll talk in trig.
MAX (to Michael): You know, mean people suck.
HAL (voiceover): You know, these sissies today that complain about global warming should have to spend a New Mexico summer on a military base without any air conditioning. In those days, you could write an invoice without depending on Bill Gates. Women had curves. Something you could hold on to. Me, I was a 21-year-old know-it-all. Well, a little joy-ride that May still had me grounded in a dead-end desk job. What can I say? I was nuts about the girl, and she wanted to see Hoover Dam from 3,000 feet.
HAL (voiceover): They sent me and Richard Dodie out to the crash site some 30-odd miles from base. Dodie and I stopped along the way for a couple of zagnuts. By the time we got there, the place was buzzing. Richard was a good guy. He really was. He was a buddy of mine that worked in the office with me, but he has a tendency to get his skivvies all up in a bunch.
BETTY: These are press credentials from the Fort Worth Star-Telegram, guys. What am I saying? Fort Worth may as well be Burma to you people. Who's in charge here? Colonel, rumor at the local radio station says you folks got yourselves a flying saucer. Any comment?
YVONNE: Doctors I'd never seen before. They pulled me in to help with the autopsy. There's no way these things were even mammal. The epidermis, hands, organs - they were nothing I'd ever seen.
DIXIE: Oh, I'm late for my hair appointment. These curls, they don't happen by magic, you know
MICHAEL: You saved me.
MICHAEL: Meet the reason I haven't been returning your phone calls.
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