I love you.

Love, Ben Franklin.

Oh, for the love of my officers, please believe her!

Sometimes the sight of overwrought, weeping, crying loved ones can be quite effective.

I mean, people that have fallen on hard times deserve our love and our compassion.

This might be a good time for me to debut my little love song that I wrote.

Well, now let me get off my high horse here and hand the reins over, as it were, to my lovely bareback rider.

Geez, I really have a way of painting pictures with words, don't I?

I am only too anxious to begin my life anew as a productive member of society.

And what better way than to help my fellow citizens, especially the elderly and infirm, with their checkbooks, retirement plans, and monthly budgets.

Right, so if you'll just hand over your account numbers and pin codes.

Over our dead and rotting corpses.

We may be old, dear, but we're not stupid.

Come on.

Let's waltz our way out of this sewer of petty distrust and closed-mindedness.

Fox, come on.

See, you've upset her so much she doesn't want to dance.

What a shame.

She looks like she could cut a mean rug, too.

Is there anyone your evil sarcasm hasn't crushed?