MOLLY: Woof woof. (sniffing around) I'm telling ya pal there's more goodies in this joint than your great aunt's dentures. BILL: Listen Molls, just because my aunt was a real looker when she was young don't mean we should invite sharp claws into the gag job. But I do hear ya... I heard about those gold nuggets they say are being passed around at the kiddie birthday party we're gonna be crashing. MOLLY: Woof! BILL: Right, so here's the snout-to-the-nose plan - I brawn my way in, you slink all stealthy and patch our bottoms in case of a quick getaway. MOLLY: Woof! BILL: (whispering) Now all I need you to look out for is a big-haired flatfoot task force... MOLLY: Woof woof woof! (slight pause) … WA-WA-WA CASE THE HAIRCARE STRATEGY BILL: Wider ponytail indeed, that Couchac DI liaison officer has been on the hip trail of minor details for the past two months. Her shadowboxing to this operation means we'll clinch in the canine casket before we can say,**"Queso fresco on hooves, hold the chihuahua!"** MOLLY: (blushes) Oh Bill, I had no idea you had such a clothed blunt set of pastoral downers! BILL: Never mind that flea-ridden spittoon foxtail, champ. It's forbidden to pimp the snout until you can handle the doggywave. First things first we gotta snatch those golden flakes before ol' pinky keetch bars the lock on this joint. MOLLY: (laughing) Pinky? Maybe for a date! But THIS is EX underwear only! BILL: (winking) Slink while the dog's gone hunting - keep the sweet tongue out. We might need to call the breed buster in on this one!