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?
TIM: In the shower?
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.