NIXON: So what do you make of the new agent?

HALDEMAN: He seems professional.

NIXON: I’m not so sure. Maybe he knows his stuff, but I think I detect an odor.

HALDEMAN: Well, now that you mention it…

NIXON: Jasmine, right? Am I right?

HALDEMAN: Yes, it’s jasmine. It’s the strangest thing.

- - -

NIXON: To tell you the truth, I never understood the appeal of baseball.

HALDEMAN: I know exactly what you mean.

NIXON: There’s not much going on, you know? One pitch, then another pitch, then another one. Then finally, boom, the ball goes flying, and five seconds later all the action’s over.

HALDEMAN: Really tests your patience.

NIXON: National pastime, my eye.

HALDEMAN: My eye and my left foot.

- - -

NIXON: These bikini briefs they delivered sort of ride up.

HALDEMAN: Yes, they certainly do.

NIXON: [pause] How do you know?

HALDEMAN: It’s an educated guess, sir. You look a bit pained.

NIXON: Pained? What the hell’s that supposed to mean?

HALDEMAN: I have a very good eye.

NIXON: In any event, they ride up.

HALDEMAN: You might consider going commando.

- - -

NIXON: You going to Spiro’s thing next Friday?

HALDEMAN: No, it conflicts with the Brazilian prime minister’s visit.

NIXON: Oh, crap. That’s right.

HALDEMAN: As much as I like Spiro…

NIXON: Yeah, and I heard he’s bringing in hookers.

HALDEMAN: Hookers?

NIXON: Lookers, I said. There will be some real lookers.

HALDEMAN: I like lookers as much as the next guy, if you know what I mean.

NIXON: I don’t think I do.