Oh, come on.

Balbricker:

[Sees Miss Honeywell and Coach Brackett in the stairwell as she is about to come down]
Miss Honeywell, do you mind? Honeywell:
[Quietly but sarcastically]
Do I mind what? Balbricker:
[as she starts down the stairs past them]
Look at this. The two of you squirming around like a pair of eels in heat. It's a disgrace. Honeywell:
[Getting in her face]
Yeah? Well it's certainly better than stomping and waddling around like a frilly hippopotamus, Beulah! Balbricker:
[Hissing]
What did you call me? Honeywell:
Beulah. Beulah Ball-breaker. Balbricker:
[Yelling]
Who do you think you're talking to? Honeywell:
[Voice slowly increasing in volume]
Well, if I heard of herty-gerty, I would think I was talking to the fat lady in the circus, but as it stands I guess I'm talking to a bunch of bad news named Beulah, Beulah, BEULAH! Coach Brakett:
[Gets up]
Look, ladies... Honeywell:
[Both she and Balbricker push him back down; without even looking at him]
You butt out! Balbricker:
Moral turpitude. Honeywell:
What? Balbricker:
[Louder]
Moral turpitude! Read your contract, Miss Honeywell! I'll have you fired for moral turpitude! Honeywell:
[as Balbricker continues down the stairs]
Take your moral turpitude and stick up your old gazoo, Beulah! Coach Brakett:
[Stands up, concerned]
Moral turpitude? Gee, I don't know, Lynn. Honeywell:
Oh, come on. [Runs upstairs pulling him by the hand, making him stumble up with her]