THK:  “You’re not planning to spread me on that white bread, are you, Conchita?  Because I command you not to spread me on that white bread!

Conchita:

THK:  “Okay, fine, have it your way… But don’t you dare cover me in that processed turkey meat –”

Conchita: 

THK:  “Oh good lord, no—not tomato slices.  Have a heart, would you…?”

Conchita:

THK:  “…Wait, what are those—jalapenos?  Because this isn’t funny anymore, Conchita…”

Conchita:

THK:  “Conchita…?  I’m talking to you –”

Conchita:

THK:  “My God, woman.  Peppers on a processed turkey meat sandwich?”

Conchita: 

THK:  “You people really are barbarians, aren’t you…?”