Vanessa Lengies credited as playing...
Natasha
- Monty: I must say there's nothing more attractive than tainted youth. Yes, I am indeed a pervert. Does that offend you?
- Natasha: Nope, I think most tainted youths end up being perverts.
- Monty: Good fucking answer!
- Natasha: Oh and Monty, just so you know, I'm only a minor for another week. I turn eighteen on Wednesday.
- Monty: Well, then I guess I better hurry up then. I don't have much time.
- Natasha: Dean.
- Dean: What?
- Natasha: The old lady at Table 37 wants you to sing the birthday song for her grandson. His name is Timmy, and he's eight years old.
- Dean: [tosses a cake with Happy Birthday onto the counter from the box] I need birthday singers!
- Monty: Come on, people! We need birthday singers!
- Naomi: Fuck.
- Dean: [the gang walk toward Table 37, clapping and cheering. Dean holds out the cake and brings it to the table, spotting Timmy] There he is. There's the big winner.
- [sets the cake onto the table where Timmy is]
- Monty: [excitedly] Yeah!
- Dean: All right. Attention, guests! Today's a very special occasion. It's Timmy's eighth birthday! Big round of applause.
- [the guests cheer and applaud]
- Dean: He's earned it. He's got his whole life ahead of him. The sky's the limit.
- Dean: [singing] I don't know but I've been told.
- Monty, Amy, Naomi, Serena, Calvin: [singing] Someone here is getting old!
- Dean: [singing, Timmy looks frightened] Good news is dessert is free.
- Monty, Amy, Naomi, Serena, Calvin: [singing] Bad news is we sing off-key!
- Dean: [singing] Happy birthday...
- Dean, Monty, Amy, Naomi, Serena, Calvin: [point to Timmy, in unison] TO YOU!
- [Timmy starts crying in embarrassment, the waiters applaud and cheer. One of them holds up Timmy's arm and waves it in the air]
- Natasha: Look at the camera!
- [holding a camera]
- Dean: Picture time.
- [the camera snaps and we're revealed the photograph of all the waiters and Timmy posed for the picture, Timmy still cries in the background as this happens]
- Dean: All right. All right. Cry it off.