DONNA: Don't you want to know about the banging in your office?
JOSH: Banging in my office?
DONNA: They've been at it all morning.
JOSH: I don't know what you're talking about.
DONNA: Josh, there's a loud banging or thumping coming from the floor above your office.
JOSH: I didn't notice.
DONNA: How could you not notice?
JOSH: Because I didn't! Donna, I've been on the phone for the last hour trying to seal the deal to fill a seat on the Supreme Court.
DONNA: It was pretty loud banging, Josh.
JOSH: You understand I'm talking about the United States Supreme Court, right?
(Sam and Toby come out of their offices and high-five Josh)
SAM: Who da man?
TOBY: You da man!
SAM and JOSH: We da man!
DONNA: This is just gross.
DONNA: It's a maintenance crew.
JOSH: The banging?
DONNA: They're working upstairs.
JOSH: Peyton Cabot Harrison III.
JOSH: Peyton Cabot Harrison III. He sounds like he should be a Supreme Court justice.
DONNA: It's a good name.
JOSH: Phillips Exeter ... Princeton ... Rhodes Scholar ... Harvard Law Review--for which he was, oh yeah, the editor. Did I mention that he was dean of Harvard Law School? Did I mention that his father was Attorney General to Eisenhower?
DONNA: Peyton Cabot Harrison III.
JOSH: That's right.
DONNA: Jewish fellow?
JOSH: You're not gonna ruin this moment for me, Donna.
DONNA: I'm sharing this moment with you.
JOSH: This is a big day for us.
DONNA: You're the men.
JOSH: You know what we're finally going to have?
DONNA: A WASPy old man in the Supreme Court?
JOSH: A smooth confirmation process.
DONNA: You think?
JOSH: It's going to sail.
DONNA: I hope so.
JOSH: It's going to sail, Donna.
DONNA: There's many a slip twixt the tongue and the wrist, Josh.
JOSH: Yes. Well. Your fortune cookie wisdom notwithstanding, it's going to sail.
DONNA: Please don't get your hopes up.
JOSH: Why shouldn't I get my hopes up?
DONNA: Because when it doesn't work out, you end up drunk in my apartment in the middle of the night and yell at my roommate's cats.
JOSH: Smooth sailing, Donna.
DONNA: Cautious optimism, Josh.
JOSH: Nothing bad is gonna happen this week.
DONNA: Exercise cautious optimism.
JOSH: Look, there is no reason--(a huge chunk of ceiling suddenly crashes down on Josh's desk) Well ... okay.
JOSH: That was inches from my head!
DONNA: It was not inches.
JOSH: It was inches. A little bit this way, a little bit that way ... bam! Massive head wound.
DONNA: (drily) You're fine.
JOSH: Yeah, but there for the grace of God--you know what I'm saying?
JOSH: I really think if big chunks of ceiling are going to fall on anyone ... I don't know. (sighs)
JOSH: It should be you.
DONNA: Ugh! I knew you were going to say that!
JOSH: From now on, before I come in in the morning, I want you to test my office.
DONNA: Staff in 10 minutes.
JOSH: Donna! Where's my East Asia memo?
DONNA: (off-screen) Right here!
(a couple of lines of irrelevant Mandy nonsense about Lillienfield's press conference)
JOSH: It's okay, Donna--I'll just come and get it myself!
DONNA: (off-screen) Keep your pants on, Joshua! I'm on my way!
(more lines of irrelevant Mandy nonsense about her putting on a show and not wanting to be upstaged)
DONNA: (entering as Mandy leaves) Here.
JOSH: Thank you.
DONNA: You're welcome.
JOSH: You should be nice to me. I could be dead, you know.
DONNA: I don't have that kind of luck.
DONNA: How does Lillienfield get his information?
JOSH: He's got half a Government Oversight Committee--these are the people who literally decide if we get heat and electricity in the White House.
DONNA: So they have access to background information?
DONNA: You shouldn't feel uncomfortable interviewing me.
JOSH: I met you, I talked to you, I hired you. You know anybody around here who uses drugs?
JOSH: You want to tell me who they are?
DONNA: No ...
JOSH: Good for you. Consider yourself interviewed.
DONNA: You're a good boy, Josh.
JOSH: Donna, I've seen your records.
DONNA: I know.
JOSH: You need to learn that "no parking" means no parking.
DONNA: The thing is, sometimes I can't find a space.
JOSH: Go to work.