Look, I'm glad you got that gun of yours working again. We've run the con, were both stinking rich, and for a while I was worried that you wouldn't be able to turn me back into a man again. But things change. In the weeks you were trying to fix the gun, I've met a nice man. His name is Pennington. He's ninety-five, he's a billionaire, and he's smitten with me. He also is old-fashioned enough to think that pre-nups show a lack of trust. So, thanks for the work you put into the gun, but I'm staying this way.
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