Tell you what – the minute we go to news break, I’m going to rush down there and leave this withering note on his windshield. “Dear discourteous driver…”

Frasier: Tell you what – the minute we go to news break, I’m going to rush down there and leave this withering note on his windshield. “Dear discourteous driver…”
Roz: Whoa, you can just stop right there.