- Lenin: [as Samantha wavers after smudging herself with wet paint] Here, here, let me give you a hand.
- Samantha Strange: Thanks.
- Lenin: Feeling a little blue today?
- [causing crestfallen look]
- Lenin: Sorry, lame joke.
- Samantha Strange: I was looking for Room T327, and now have paint all over me and the map...
- Lenin: [pointing at her designer high heels, one scuffed blue] Your shoe.
- Samantha Strange: Oh no! Oh no no no no no!
- Lenin: Hold on! Hold on! I got it!
- [fetches some thinner]
- Lenin: Here, let me. It's not a problem. I clean up way worse today, trust me.
- Samantha Strange: [softly] Okay. Thanks.
- Lenin: Here, let me. Flip it off. Come on.
- Samantha Strange: [softly, as she slips off shoe] Thank you.
- Lenin: [applying thinner, scrubbing lightly, diligently, but to no avail] Know what? Looks like I'm gonna have to call this one. Time of death, 10:57.
- Samantha Strange: [adamantly] I can not go to an interview with one blue shoe.
- Lenin: Why not? It makes a statement.
- Samantha Strange: It says that I'm a flake.
- Lenin: No, it says that you're an eccentric non-conformist.
- Samantha Strange: [scoffs] Which I'm sure is totally what they are looking for in a surgeon.
- Lenin: [somewhat taken aback] You're a surgeon?
- Samantha Strange: [slips her shoe back on over a shapely foot] Why, is that bad?
- Lenin: No, no. It's just you don't really seem like a surgeon.
- Samantha Strange: And what are surgeons like?
- Lenin: You know, God complex, jocks, always really busy. Anyway, Room T327 is right over there, to the left, and around the stairs.
- Samantha Strange: Thank you.
- Lenin: Good luck, doctor.
- Samantha Strange: [before she walks off, smiling] Samantha. Just Samantha.