Shut up!

Jane Smith:

I told you to wait for my signal, you didn't wait for my signal. John Smith:
Well, I improvised. Jane Smith:
You deviated from the plan. John Smith:
The plan was flawed. Jane Smith:
The plan was not flawed. John Smith:
Anal. Jane Smith:
*Organized.* John Smith:
Jane, 90% of this job is instinct. Jane Smith:
Well, your instinct set off *every* alarm in the building! John Smith:
My instinct got the job done. It may not have been the Jane show... Jane Smith:
No, it was the John show: it was half-assed. Like Christmas, like our anniversary, like the time you forgot to bring my mother's birthday present. John Smith:
Your *fake* mother's birthday present. Jane Smith:
The point is, you are *always* the first to break team. John Smith:
You don't want a team, you want a servant for hire. Jane Smith:
I want someone I can count on. John Smith:
[sigh]
Jane, there's no *air* around you anymore. Jane Smith:
[irritated]
Oh. OK, what is that supposed to mean? John Smith:
That means there's no room for mistakes, no mistakes whatsoever. No spontaneity. Who can answer to that? Jane Smith:
Well, you don't have to. Because this isn't even a real marriage. [brooding silence] Benjamin:
[locked up in the back of the van, in a bewildered voice]
*Who are you people?* Jane Smith:
[yelling]
Shut up!