Priest: Look, matey, this is a church, not a dealing room. I am not interested in your creepy theories about enterprise and initiative. This place is founded on ideas a bit more permanent than the Dow Jones Index... The Church will be here long after your little brat has grown up, ripped a few people off and died unloved in his Spanish retirement villa.

Mother: Portuguese, actually, and there's no need to be so beastly.

Priest: Well, I'm sorry, but people like you really piss me off.