Scene: The apartment.
Beverley: Sonny boy!
Penny: Get out here! Your mommy wants to talk to you!
Leonard: What the hell is going on?
Penny: You’re in trouble.
Beverley: Why didn’t you tell me you were tapping my homegirl? Did I say that right?
Penny: Yeah, not bad, not bad.
Leonard: Are you guys drunk?
Beverley: Well, I hope so. Otherwise, why would we have stopped at Del Taco? Now, how could you not tell me you were in a relationship with this lovely, charming young woman?
Penny: Oh, thank you.
Beverley: You’re welcome. Is it because she’s uneducated, trapped in a menial service position?
Penny: What the hell happened to lovely and charming?
Leonard: How come you didn’t tell me that you and Father were getting a divorce? How come you didn’t tell me you had surgery? How come you didn’t tell me my dog died?
Beverley: Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait. What I hear you saying is that you want a more intimate mother-son relationship.
Leonard: I do.
Beverley (gives him an uncomfortable hug): There. It’s late. Now, go to bed. I’m getting a warm feeling spreading through my heart.
Penny: That’s the Del Taco.
[Scene: Central Perk, Phoebe and Rachel are sitting on the couch. Ross sits down.]
Rachel: Hi! Oh, Ross, don’t forget, we have that doctor’s appointment tomorrow!
Phoebe: Hey, are you going to find out the sex of the baby?
Ross: No-no, we talked about it. We don’t want to know. All we care about is that it’s happy and healthy.
Rachel: Yep! Happy and healthy! And cute!
Ross: And smart!
Ross: With an aptitude for science.
Phoebe: Are you two talking about the same baby? Hey! Have you started off thinking of names yet?
Rachel: Oh yeah! I’ve come up with a bunch of ideas!
Ross: Really? Me too!
Phoebe: Me too!
Phoebe: Uh huh! If it’s a girl, Phoebe, and if it’s a boy, Phoebo!
Ross: Maybe. But it wouldn’t hurt to have a backup, you know? Uh, Rach-Rach, what were you thinking? (Gives her a look)
Rachel: Okay! I was thinking if it’s a girl, how about Sandrine? It’s French.
Ross: Huh. That’s a really pretty name for-for an industrial solvent.
Rachel: Okay fine, what do you have?
Ross: Well, OK, it’s for a boy. Well, I know it’s a little out there, but…Darwin.
Rachel: Wow, oh my God, our child will be beaten to death in the schoolyard.
Phoebe: Yeah, by Sandrine.
Ross: You’re just saying that 'cause I said no to your name!
Rachel: I’m really, really not.
Phoebe: How-how about you each get five vetoes?
Ross: All right.
Rachel: All right.
Ross: That sounds fair.
Rachel: Yeah! I don’t think you’re going to need it though. Okay, check this out. If it’s a girl, Rain.
Ross: Rain? Hi. Hi, my name is Rain. I have my own kiln, and my dress is made out of wheat.
Phoebe: I know her! I bought homemade soap from her at a Dead show!
Ross: Okay, how about, for a guy, Thatcher?
Rachel: Ross, why do you hate our child?
Ross: Fine, you go.
Rachel: Okay, James.
Rachel: But only if it’s a girl.
Ross: Oh, veto. How about—Ooh, I like Ruth! What about Ruth?
Rachel: Oh! I’m sorry! Are we having an 89-year-old? How about Dayton?
Ross: Veto. Stewart?
Rachel: Veto. Sawyer?
Ross: Veto. Helen?
Phoebe: Is it me, or is veto starting to sound really good?