Alex: Please don't tell my mom.

Zahra: Seriously? Alex, we are in a hotel crawling with reporters, in a city filled with cameras, on the precipice of the biggest event of the campaign, in a race so close it could be arrested for assault, and you're asking me not to tell your mommy on you?

Alex: Well, I haven't told her yet.

Zahra: Oh, gee, kid, I'm sorry to interrupt your process of becoming, but you're the one who decided to put your d*ck into the heir to the British throne.

Henry: Well, technically, I'm the spare.

Zahra: Not talking to you, sir.

Henry: Okay.