Jimmy: Hey, Callahan! Callahan: Hey, Cupid, who sent you down here? Jimmy: Never mind the smart cracks; something important has happened. Callahan: Y… - Mary Eunice McCarthy

In the spacious mansions of San Francisco's Nob Hill a Chinese cook was a must. The first thing the nouveau riche did as they tried to scramble up the ladder of society was to jingle gold pieces in the ears of a Lee or a Wong to lure him into their newly furnished houses. But the Chinese themselves had a social position only slightly above that of the rodents who sometimes threatened the fine mahogany wainscoting of their employers' houses. They were commonly referred to as "Chinks," with or without accompanying epithet, except by the gentler of tongue, who invariably spoke of a Chinese as "John Chinaman." <small>pp. 5–6</small>

What they need to do is to look more closely at the fundamentals of American life, sympathetically, not with intent to "commit a message."

Jimmy "Mr. Cupid" O'Brien: Come on, step on it, Jefferson! We're an hour late for our deliveries now.
Thomas H. Jefferson: Aw, have a heart, Mr. Cupid. Look at that speed meter.
Jimmy: What're you worried about?
Jefferson: About goin' to my own funeral. [Siren heard.] Mm mm. What'd I tell you? Here come the cops.
Jimmy: Now listen! You keep quiet. I'll get out of this.
Jefferson: You wouldn't be in it if you would go where the flowers was goin', instead of stoppin' where they ain't.