What? That's-- I don't even know what the hell a gentlemen's gentleman is and-

[Jesus, Dean, low blow. Quentin snaps his mouth shut, swallowing the last bit of bacon.] Right, yeah. I don't think that's how that even works. [The 'you're a dick' is implied.]

I should probably go and make sure the living room didn't catch on fire. Thanks. For the-- coffee. And the bacon.