
Three blasts… RUN!
Elvin: Sorry, Mrs. Huxtable, I didn’t know you did that kind of thing.
Clair: What kind of thing?
Elvin: Serve.
Clair: Serve? Serve whom?
Elvin: Serve him. [referring to Cliff]
Clair: Ohhh, serve him? As in serve my man?
Because instantly alienating a huge chunk of your demographic through offensive humour is the best way to sell soda pop. (x)