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Hawke: No.

Shannon: What?

Hawke: I...I...I can't do this. I feel so sick.

Shannon: Why?

Hawke: I...just do.

Shannon: Does my breath stink? I mean, if it does, you can tell me. I wouldn't want a guy going down on me with bad breath.

Hawke: No, it’s not that. It's just...

Shannon: Oh...my...you're gay!

Hawke: No! I just can't have sex with you.

Shannon: But...I'm only gonna blow you.

Hawke: That's sex too! No penetration, no blowjobs, no cunnilingus, nothing! I...I just can't.

Shannon: Sweetie...I just wanted to give you your birthday present.

Hawke: I don't want it!

Shannon: Now you're being irrational. You never say no to anything! In fact, you're the first guy who's said no to sucking dick.

Hawke: Oh, so you really are good with your lips.

Shannon: WHAT?!!

Hawke: Nothing. I...I have genophobia. My psychiatrist told me that it's a very unusual phobia, so it's not too easy to deal with it.

Shannon: You have an irrational fear of getting fucked? Out of all the guys I've dated, you are, by far, the strangest.

Hawke: I’m...sorry. I've always wanted to have sex. I mean, I've fought tooth and nail so that I could. It’s just that nothing worked. I'm still sexless, and I'm still scared of it.

Shannon: Hawke, your birthday's tomorrow. If you don't want sex, what do you want?

Hawke: Do I have to have something?

Shannon: A cake?

Hawke: Yeah...a cake. That's safe. I don’t have cakeaphobia.

Shannon: Ah, okay. So how many candles should I put on it?

Hawke: Um...40?

Shannon: *coughs* Um...on second thought, I'll send you a card in the mail.

Hawke: Wait, what do you mean?! Where are you going?

Shannon: I'm sorry, I can’t see you anymore. I have a...sudden case of gerontophobia.

Hawke: Since when?!

Shannon: As of one minute ago. Have a nice life! You ain't got a chance in hell.