I think Becky has had enough coffee: she’s shaking pretty bad as she pours one for the man she kicked to the curb not too long ago. In case this scenario is not awkward enough, throw in some of TB’s trademark, tin-eared dialogue: “You seem…” “Better?” “Your word.”
Huh? What’s your word? Do I not seem better, now that Buddy the Wonder Dog is in my life, and you’ve finally granted me a couple hours with my midget son? Now that I’m knockin’ boots with a two-armed woman? What’s your word?
Son of Stuck Funky 
