When Ozzie finally stopped to catch his breath,
Avery summed up the case in a single sentence:
"The problem is that you ordered a French Maid Costume,
and now that you're wearing it, you can't take it off."

"That's right," he said. "You make it sound simple,
but it's a nightmare, I'm telling you!"

He paused. He closed his eyes and placed his hand on his forehead.
It was time to gather his thoughts. What was his current status? What were his next steps?

His current status? He was wearing a pair of women's underwear, and it fit like a dream (unfortunately!)
What had he done wrong here?

"Magic?" Laura repeated. "If you mean like stage magic, then no.
And it's not a joke. I mean, at the prices they charge,
it's not a joke that could go very far."

"Wait, wait!" he called. "Where are you going?
You're not mad at me about this stupid Fit-4-U crap, are you? Come on!"

"I wish men could have that experience," Camille said.
"... of being looked at like a piece of meat."
She managed to keep the edge of resentment out of her voice.

"That wouldn't work." Laura responded. "It wouldn't help at all.
Men would *love* being seen like meat, and being treated as sexual objects.
In their minds, it would work in their favor."

"Look, Deeny: having a lawyer doesn't magically make things easier.
It doesn't magically save you from the consequences of your words and actions."

"Did something bad happen in Mariola?" I asked her.

"Wait, wait!" I said. "Go back a second!
You said 'The Iodine Story'. What is that?"

"You don't know?" Hugh looked surprised.
"The Iodine Story," he repeated, as if saying it again somehow clarified it.

As I was leaving, Hanna ran and fetched the book.
She pressed it into my hands, insisting that I take it.

"Be our Perry Mason!" she chirped, smiling and nearly dancing with excitement.

Lucy continued: "You know, I'll admit that I'm more than a little jealous.
I'd love to have interesting men interested in me. But I gotta say that it worries me a little, too."
She paused. "Because if you're going to be carry on like this with all kinds of men,
at some point they're going to come here, looking for you."

"Do I have a police record?" I asked in alarm.

"No, but it's not for want of trying!" he quipped, laughing, cackling, clapping his hands.

I smiled to encourage him, but honestly I didn't find it funny. I didn't find it funny at all.

I had to find out whether I owned a car, and I had to talk to Barney.
Once I had a handle on those two things,
All my curiosity and questions about my past would be over.

I'd be ready to move forward, as though last Tuesday was the first day of the rest of my life.

"Don't feel too bad," Cameron said. "Feel bad, yeah, but not too bad.
The good news is, I like you a lot better this way. A *lot* better.
In fact, you should seriously consider never getting your memories back."

"Why did it take several days before anyone even *started* to be concerned about me? What's that about?"

"You really have to ask?"

"Charlotte didn't say much, but she did ask me why my name is Mason."

"What kind of stupid question is that?" Carly began,
her face registering annoyance, puzzlement, and curiosity all at once.

"That's — uh — actually a really good question, actually," Tatum put in, hesitantly.

"The point is..." Jen insisted, turning a slight shade of red,
"the point is, that now we — you — don't know anything.
Everything is potential, right? The sky is the limit."

"That's only the upper limit," I countered.

"Hitchhiking? No. Me, hitchhiking? Where? Like, out here, in the desert?"

"Yeah, maybe a dozen miles west of here."

I tried to put it together, but the pieces didn't fit. "Hitchhiking... dressed like this?
Barefoot? With an umbrella? What-- did I drop out of the sky?
Like Mary Poppins, with the umbrella?"

"Thanks for all the stuff," he interrupted gruffly. "I guess that's everything — and this is goodbye."

"Goodbye?" I exclaimed. "Why does it have to be goodbye?"

He gestured helplessly. "I don't know! What else could it be?"

In a nutshell, the song is about all the crazy, misguided things
a man might do if he fell for a woman: things like:
get a job, rent a decent apartment, bathe more frequently...

"Here's the thing, Merope," Agent Kirchmeyer said.
"If we take what you said at face value, what do we have? Something about cylinders.
We don't know what these cylinders are. Frankly, they sound like rolls of money.
Which, of course, is nice for him, but not really remarkable,
if you know anything about the Switcher."

Suddenly, I felt a warm, wet tongue give a quick lick to my right ankle.
I yelped and scrambled my way out of the car, clutching the plastic bag.

"Hey, sorry about that!" said a young male voice. "I tried to stop her,
but you know... dogs..." as if the word dogs explained everything.

"A liability?" she repeated. "Is that what concerns you? That he's a liability?
Weren't you and I liabilities for each other?"

"The moment you told the processing people that you accept him as Anson Charpont,
he became for all intents and purposes, legal and otherwise, Anson Charpont. In every way!"

"You don't think Stan would come after us, do you?" I asked her, half joking, half serious.

"That clown is capable of anything," Femke answer in a grim tone.