- Yes, please, thank you. - Great.

Just tell me when to stop. - Yeah.

(playful music increases in intensity)

- I'll tell you when I want you to stop.

- Okay. (fun music)

- It's you.

- Ooh, you guys want pizza for lunch?

- Yes. - Okay.

- Oh, I can't have pizza; I'm lactose intolerant.

(cries out in alarm)

- (groans) That smells awful.

- Yeah, that's how you know it's good.

- You really put cheese on everything, don't you?

- Yeah. (dramatic classical music)

- Is that cheese on cheese? (fun music)

- Can I add cheese to that?

Can I add cheese to that?

- [Man] And would you like cheese with that?

- (laughs) Jake, you crazy boy.

Do I want cheese with that, you crazy.

See you at pick up!

- I think I'm gonna name my first daughter Brie.

- You think I can name my kid Manchego?

- Yes. - Yeah.

- Yeah. - That's a cool name.

- Can I get you anything?

- What kind of cheese do you have?

- So, Miss Brunson, you are in excellent health.

- Oh, thank goodness.

- Oh, and we also found the source of your stomach issues.

- Okay, what is it?

- Did you know you were lactose intolerant?

(dramatic music)

Your blood has a deficiency in lactase--

- No. - Which is the enzyme--

- No, no, no, no, no. - That allows you

to digest dairy. - No!

No, no, no!

Cheese, cheese, cheese, cheese, where's the cheese?

(screams)

(gasping)

- What is it, Quinta? - I just had the worst dream.

It started off so relatable. (fun music)

- What is this? - Cheese.

- What? - You said you wanted cheese.

- The fuck is this? - You said you wanted cheese!

- Kraft singles?

What do you think I am, 12 years old?

Are you kidding me? - It's cheese!

- How dare you disgrace me with the cheese of a peasant?

Get out, get out!

This is not my apartment.