FAITH HILL: Ooh! Excuse me, stranger, you’re standing awfully close.

TIM MCGRAW: Huh. Is this like one of those role-playing dress-up games you like?

FAITH: WELL. I don’t know what kind of lady you think I am, MYSTERY SIR, but I am here to tell you–

TIM: Faith, it’s ME. Tim.

FAITH: Ha! I don’t think so.

TIM: I am. I swear. Look, I have your car keys in my pocket.

FAITH: WHERE DID YOU GET THOSE?

TIM: From you. Because I’m your husband.

FAITH. No. See, my husband wears hats. Big ones.

TIM: All the time, huh?

FAITH: Yes.

TIM: In the shower?

FAITH: Yes.

TIM: In the kitchen?

FAITH: Double yes.

TIM: In bed?

FAITH: OF COURSE.

TIM: HA. Then what hatless sex fiend did you think was snuggling up to you last night, if it wasn’t your husband, a.k.a ME?

FAITH: … I plead the fifth.

TIM: Fine. I’d rather talk about your outfit, anyway. Shall we take a closer look at it?

FAITH: If you want, but I’ve really got to go meet my husband in a minute. He’ll be wondering where I am.

TIM: In a sense, he already is.