GC: I got you a shirt for your birthday!
A: Thanks, man. *reads shirt* "Nuke Wife."
GC: *lights cigarette* Yeah. Sorry. It's a little bit inaccurate.
A: Wha--? I'm not a nuke. I'm definitely NOT a nuke's wife. How is that a "little bit" inaccurate?
GC: *exhales smoke* Isn't that your crest or something? On the front? 
A: It's a picture of a submarine.
GC: You got those, right? Submarines?
A: *facepalm*
GC: Look, I don't know anything about the military, all right? I'm rich and I'm hot. I have so many options that the closest I'll do to military service is giving a mercy lay to a hot soldier. You're lucky I even pay attention to you and your ridiculous career yakking. I don't need to know jack about the army.
A: The navy.
GC: What, you're in the navy now?