Whoa. Dad, look at that. Hah. The Ford Mustang. What do you think? I think it's a...

[Miles and Peter enter the showroom to look at the new Ford Mustang] Peter Miles: Whoa. Dad, look at that. Hah. The Ford Mustang. What do you think? [Miles looks around the Mustang] Ken Miles: I think it's a secretary's car. Peter Miles: I like it. [Peter opens the passenger door and looks at the interior, alarming Beebe] Leo Beebe: Oh. Excu... Excuse me. Would you, would you not do that? Peter Miles: Oh. Sorry. [Peter closes the door as Miles looks at Beebe] Leo Beebe: Oh, er, is this, is this your son? Ken Miles: Yes, it is. Leo Beebe: Would you ask him to keep his hands off the paintwork? [Peter takes his hand off the roof] Ken Miles: No, no, no, Peter, You're okay. [looking at Beebe] Ken Miles: Who are you? Leo Beebe: Leo Beebe, Senior Executive Vice President, Ford Motor Company. Ken Miles: Ah. Leo Beebe: I'm responsible for the launch of the Mustang. Ken Miles: Ah! At least now we know who's responsible. Don't get me wrong, Lenny. Leo Beebe: Leo. Ken Miles: It looks fantastic. But inside, it's a lump of lard, dressed up to fool the public. My advice is, lose the inline-six and that idiotic three-speed, shorten the wheelbase, somehow lose half a ton, and lower the price. Peter Miles: Dad. Ken Miles: But even then, I'd still choose a Chevy Chevelle. And that's a fucking terrible car.