The prosecution is all, "Man, what sneezed on her?" The defense is enraged that anyone could befoul this edgy confection with a mucus allusion. Flipping to a fresh page in the notepad, the prosecution asks for the exact address of the gentlemen's club where these tassels will later be shimmied and spun into windmills of sex-kittenry. The defense deems made-up words to be a cheap trick, and then when the prosecution starts snickering, stabs one of them in the leg with a pen.