The Twilight Zone

Narrator:
[closing narration for "The Last Defender of Camelot"] Once upon a time, there was a realm of myth and magic-a high, bright dream that shimmered briefly and then was gone, leaving only memories and one ageless, weary, slightly tarnished hero who proved at last that wisdom and valor go hand in hand, on Earth, in Camelot, and... in the Twilight Zone.

James L. 'Fats' Brown:
You called?

Jesse Cardiff:
But... you're...

James L. 'Fats' Brown:
Dead? Not really. As long as people talk about you, you don't really die. As long as people speak your name, you continue. The legend doesn't die because the man does.

Jesse Cardiff:
This is impossible.

James L. 'Fats' Brown:
Nothing's impossible. Just some things are less likely than others, that's all.

James L. 'Fats' Brown:
You know, Jesse, there's more to life than this pool hall. I mean, it's not right for you to keep yourself cooped up here like this. I mean, you ought to get out a little more, see what's going on out there.

Jesse Cardiff:
You didn't become the best by sitting on a park bench. You spent plenty of time with a cue in your hands.

James L. 'Fats' Brown:
Yeah, of course I did, but I still had a life. I mean, I've been to places where they never even heard of pool. I know, I know I - I don't, I don't look the part, but I've made love. I've watched sunsets. I've swam [sic] in the ocean. And when I think of all the - the beautiful, the beautiful things that there are to do in this world, it hurts me... to see you *rotting* away, 'cause that's what you're doing. You're rotting in this dark room.

Jesse Cardiff:
You said if I'd won, I'd live. If I'd lost, I'd die.

James L. 'Fats' Brown:
[unscrews cue stick] And you will... as all second-raters die. You'll be buried and forgotten, without me touching you.

[sets stick down]

James L. 'Fats' Brown:
See, if you'd had beaten me...

[walks over to retrieve cue case]

James L. 'Fats' Brown:
if you'd had beaten me, if you'd had beaten me, you would have lived forever.

Jesse Cardiff:
You tricked me.

James L. 'Fats' Brown:
[loads cue into the case] No, no. No, you just had to be tested under pressure, that's all. Any man can be a marksman if the target doesn't shoot back.

[shuts case, turns around, walks away]

James L. 'Fats' Brown:
You'll never know 'til you risk everything.

Jake:
[after turning over the cards] Man that proves it! It's him, it's the guy!

Tony:
Well what's the Devil doing here in New Jersey?

Jake:
What are you talking about, Tony? I think he lives here!

Tony:
[after learning that the Devil was in disguise] Ain't nothing about the money, it's the principle of the thing, you know?

Peter:
Yeah, yeah that's right. You know, a guy wants to sit in and play poker with some guys, he should come up and say, you know, 'Hello, hi, I'm the Prince of Darkness. Can I sit in for a few hands.'

Narrator:
[opening narration for "Act Break"] Maury Winkler, struggling playwright and occasional bill payer. Maury knows that all the world's a stage and all the men and women merely players. What Maury doesn't know is he is about to take center stage in an off-Broadway production in the Twilight Zone.

Narrator:
[opening narration for "Dealer's Choice"] Just a friendly game of cards. It doesn't take much to buy into this game, but buying out may be something else entirely. You see, there's a wild card on the table in a deck that's been reshuffled and cut... in the Twilight Zone.

Narrator:
[closing narration for "Dealer's Choice] There's an old saying, oft told, but seldom heeded: never deal with the devil. But if by chance you must, it's nice to know he can be a good sport. Just a friendly game of cards among a friendly group of guys, who have just come back... from the Twilight Zone.

Guillaume De Marchaux:
Now the Turks... they knew how to brew coffee, even if they were barbarians.

Narrator (segment "A Message from Charity"):
[closing narration for "A Message from Charity"] He reached out with his mind, searching for some trace of her... but found only silence. Peter Wood was alone...

Peter Wood (segment "A Message from Charity"):
[one year later at school, Peter is finishing his talk to his friends] I got to go. I got trig at one. I'll see you later

Narrator (segment "A Message from Charity"):
A new year with new friends and a new confidence and, in time, he began to doubt whether it had ever really happened. Until, one day...

Charity Payne (segment "A Message from Charity"):
Peter

Peter Wood (segment "A Message from Charity"):
Charity.

Charity Payne (segment "A Message from Charity"):
Hi. For a minute, please Peter. Only for a minute. But I had to tell you, there is a message.

Peter Wood (segment "A Message from Charity"):
A what?

Charity Payne (segment "A Message from Charity"):
Look at Bear Rock, Peter. Under the bear's jaw on the left side.

Peter Wood (segment "A Message from Charity"):
Charity. [Peter then runs to Bear Rock]

Narrator (segment "A Message from Charity"):
Harmon Brook is very different today. Its waters not quite as pure, its banks lined with tract homes and shopping centers. But Bear Rock is still there. And so is a message, a message from a girl long gone, and yet, not really gone in heart and mind. A last remembrance of friendship and first love. [Peter finds Charity's message chiseled into Bear Rock which is a Valentine-like heart with the initials "PW + CP"] A love that will live, only and always... in the Twilight Zone.

Bob Spindler:
[jumps to see last night's man from the corner standing directly behind him] You scared me.

Stranger:
Meant to.

[first lines]

Bob Spindler:
[singing] "Some guys have all the luck. Some guys have all the pain. Some guys get all the breaks...Some g..." duh duh duh duhhh...Some guys, some guys...like ME!

Bob Spindler:
[after looking away while driving, swerves off the road to plow into a tree to avoid a collision] Idiot. *Idiot*. That jerk oughta learn how to drive.

Bob Spindler:
It's a real mess out there; looks like that jerk driver drove *two* of us off the road.

Stranger:
You don't have any idea, do you?

Bob Spindler:
Yeah. Looks like I lost a car...and bought a bar, of all things.

Bob Spindler:
[the man claims Bob was responsible for his having a serious accident the night before] You're crazy; I don't have to listen to this. Who do you think you are?

Stranger:
The guy you killed.

Bob Spindler:
Oh, I know, it's about that hundred bucks you gave me last night, right? What, do you think you own me now? I'll pay you back *when* I'm ready.

Stranger:
You can never pay me back!

[The Devil offers a mathematics professor a challenge to win back his soul.]

The Devil:
Now finally, ask me! A question I can't answer or a task I can't perform!

Sam:
Not a question. A command.

The Devil:
[excited] Lay it on me, babe!

Sam:
Get lost.

Sam:
[after unsuccessfully trying to determine the answer to an unsolved equation] Dammit! I would sell my soul to get this thing right!

[hearing a sound behind him, Sam is shocked to see a man with horns on his head suddenly appear wearing sunglasses, blue jeans, and a red T-shirt that has the words "Hell is a summer festival."]

The Devil:
Two words, babe: Eternal damnation. We in business?

Sam:
[having inadvertently summoned the Devil] Did I say "soul?" Sorry. Slip of the tongue. You're a busy man. I'm a busy man. We're both busy men. Let's go somewhere and find a place to be busy.

[Sam attempts to leave the room, but he's blocked by an invisible wall]

Sam:
It was just a idle comment, for God's sake! You don't go after every poor jerk that makes a careless remark, do you?

[the Devil regards Sam silently]

Sam:
Okay, maybe you do.

The Devil:
Here's the back story, Sam. You don't mind if I call you Sam, do you? I mean, I think we're really connecting here in a positive way. And I'd like to cut through all that "victim-demon" negative imaging, you know what I mean?

The Devil:
[takes off his mirrored sunglasses, revealing mirrored eyes] Okay, here's the deal. All that mathematical lingo you were spouting? It's beautiful, man, it's like poetry. Brought tears to my eyes. Just happened to have the right phonetic structure to be a good old-fashioned demonic invocation. Especially with that neat little curse woven into it.

The Devil:
[puts sunglasses back on] We talking high-concept or what?

Sam:
Yeah, well you can just go back to whatever stygian depths you came from, fella. Because I have no intention, thank you, of selling my soul for the solution of any equation.

The Devil:
"Stygian depths," I like that. You mention Dante to most people these days, and they ask you how you liked "Gremlins." You got class. But no can do, babe. You see, we took an option on your soul the moment you summoned me. I'm just a sub-agent here to close the deal. It's all a formality. In other words, you're damned if you do, and damned if you don't.

Sam:
But that's not fair!

The Devil:
Of course it's not fair. We're evil. Look it up.

Narrator:
[closing narration for "Her Pilgrim Soul"] And bending down beside the glowing bars, murmur, a little sadly, how love fled and paced upon the mountains overhead and hid her face amid a crowd of stars. A variation on William Butler Yeats to all those who have loved and lost, and loved again, on Earth or... in the Twilight Zone.

Narrator:
[closing narration for "I of Newton"] Another of our continuing tips on what to do if the Devil shows up on your doorstep.

Sam:
[Sam picks up the sunglasses and turns back to his difficult math problem on the board with a rueful smile on his face] Well, that guy wasn't any help at all.

[Sam then throws the sunglasses into the trash can]

Narrator:
A public service announcement from the Twilight Zone.

Cupid:
[shoots him in the chest with an arrow] That's for being such a self-obsessed0 jerk. [shoots another] And that's for wasting MY time.

Todd Ettinger:
[though Cupid turns toward the door, sees he's about to shoot again and protests but he does anyway] Ahhh, oh - !

Cupid:
And that's because I... I just felt like it.

Bacchus:
Now, please, taste the wine. I've been developing it for three centuries.

Todd Ettinger:
I hope you get to spend the rest of his life with that uncontrollable Fury, 'cauae I'm certainly going to spend my life *in* one!

Narrator:
[opening narration for "Private Channel"] Modern technology has staged a revolution in the art of isolation. Turn up the volume on your headphones, and the world outside drops away. Sixteen-year-old Keith Barnes has lived in this public seclusion for some time now. But tonight, the tiny radio on which he depends to keep people out is about to start pulling them in, thanks to a very special frequency that can only be picked up... in the Twilight Zone.

Carol Shelton:
[Beginning to realize who the boy is] Your name isn't Kenny, is it?

Kenny:
It's whatever you want it to be.

Kenny:
All you had to do was want me.

Carol Shelton:
[Now realizing that Kenny is the child she would have had if she had chosen marriage instead of a career] But I do. I love you, Kenny. It's just that sometimes you have to make a choice.

Kenny:
Why couldn't you choose me?

Carol Shelton:
But I will someday. I just can't right now.

Kenny:
You can have a little boy someday, and you can name him Kenny - but he won't be me.

Blind Singer:
[singing] Too many nights I've been alone, too many times I shoulda gone home / Now I hear you got someone new to hold, hearing whispered words on the telephone / But if I can't have you, damn if anybody will / Lord, I never thought I had it in me to kill / Never thought it would come to this / Always thought that we would never miss / Now I'm breakin' my heart, so sad, so alone / Because of whispered words on the telephone / But if I can't have you, damn if anybody will / Lord, I never thought I had it in me to kill.

Jack Haines:
Go to hell.

Blind Singer:
Aw, thanks, I've been there, ain't interested. But it seems to me you're halfway there.

President Kennedy:
[after his life is saved by a time traveler, JFK gives a speech to a Harvard class - in 2172] Let the record show that in any age - good or bad - there are men of high ideals. Men of courage! Men who do more than that for which they are called upon! You will not always know their names. But let their deeds stand as monuments, so that when the human race is called to judgment, we may say, "This too was humanity!"

Arthur Lewis:
Hi honey, what're you doing up so late? What's wrong?

Norma Lewis:
I wanted to talk to you.

Arthur Lewis:
Well great, wait right there, I'll get a beer. So this guy, did he come?

Norma Lewis:
He brought the key to unlock the top.

Arthur Lewis:
So what's it all about?

Norma Lewis:
If we open the top and push the button, somewhere someone who we don't know will die and we will collect $200,000.

Arthur Lewis:
You're kidding, that's what he said? Well it must be some kind of joke.

Norma Lewis:
He was very serious about it.

Arthur Lewis:
Was this guy with a company or something?

Norma Lewis:
He said he couldn't tell me that, he just kept repeating over and over again 'the person who died... will be someone... you don't... know.'

Arthur Lewis:
That's disgusting!

Norma Lewis:
Oh what's so disgusting about it?

Arthur Lewis:
Are you saying you think it's okay?

Norma Lewis:
I think it's weird! But ever since he left, I've been wondering, you know? What is this? Some kind of survey to see who will and who won't push it?

Arthur Lewis:
Well we *won't* push it!

Norma Lewis:
Oh come on! Thousands of people die every day, all over the world, Arthur!

Arthur Lewis:
Norma! What do you think? You think you're gonna press this button, and this Mr. Steward is going to pick up the phone and somebody's going to go out and kill somebody, and then Steward's going to come here and give you $200,000? I mean think about it, Norma, it's stupid.

Norma Lewis:
I don't know what I think! It's such an effort not to think about it.

Arthur Lewis:
It's murder!

Norma Lewis:
Oh come on! I mean what if it was some old Chinese peasant or something? Or somebody with cancer?

Arthur Lewis:
What if it's somebody's newborn baby?

Norma Lewis:
So, what happens now?

Mr. Steward:
Why, you spend the money, and I hope you enjoy it. The button unit will be reprogrammed, and offered to someone else, with the same terms and conditions.

Norma Lewis:
Someone else?

Mr. Steward:
Yes. I can assure you it will be offered to someone... whom you don't know. Good day.

Narrator:
Current guest in room 2426: Martin Decker, theoretical biochemist. Checked in for observation a week ago. It seems he was displaying anti-social behaviour, wrong thinking, and other intellectual crimes against the State. Diagnosis: schizophrenia, curable only by intense therapy sessions, followed by a full confession and disclosure of the facts. Once cured, Martin will be released - or buried.

Olstroff:
Why did you do the research if you never intended to use it?

Martin Decker:
I'm a scientist. You wouldn't understand this, but there are people who believe that ideas have an innate, intrinsic value.

Olstroff:
Oh, we believe that ideas have value. Values when applied to the service of the State. You see, until then, they are just worthless, abstract, theoretical equations.

Peter Jay Novins:
[to his alter-ego on the other end of the phone] What do you mean I can't lead a happy life? What do you know about it?

Peter Jay Novins:
What do *I* know about *your* life? Who do you think you're talking to? This is *me*, Novins. *Me*!

Peter Jay Novins:
There's nothing wrong with my life! Not one thing! Nothing!

[Nervous]

Peter Jay Novins:
So what's so wrong with it, wise guy?

Peter Jay Novins:
Everything! Just about every piece of a stinks on ice. The sad part is, you know it, and you still won't make repairs. Well, that changes. From today on, that changes.

Peter Jay Novins:
Look - this is crazy. Even if all this is true, even if we're *both* Novins, there's nothing that says we can't both exist, can't both lead happy, separate lives.

Peter Jay Novins:
Who are you kidding? You can't lead a happy life by yourself. And how're you gonna do it knowing I'm over here living your life too? You never were much one for sharing.

Peter Jay Novins:
[to his alter-ego on the other end of the phone] It's just that - ev-everybody deserves to go on living.

Peter Jay Novins:
Oh, God. Spare me the philosophy, will you, Novins? You don't believe that for a second; you're a misanthrope, you hate people.

Peter Jay Novins:
Not true. I just hate some of the things people do. Like guys who put "Save the Whale" bumper-stickers on their cars and then buy their wives fur coats.

Peter Jay Novins:
Hypocrite. You have the gall to complain about that when you took on that Cumberland account?

Peter Jay Novins:
That's another thing entirely!

Peter Jay Novins:
Sure it is. You know damn well Cumberland is gonna strip mine the guts out of that county, and they'll get away with it... with that publicity campaign *you* dreamed up. Great PR man, Novins, but you got the ethics of a weasel!

Peter Jay Novins:
For God's sake, what was I supposed to do? I have to make a living, don't I? If I didn't do it someone else would've. I suppose you would've turned it down.

Peter Jay Novins:
That's exactly what I did, old buddy. I called them this morning and told them to stuff that account up their noses.

[first lines]

Narrator:
[narration] Some push for what they need; some push for what they want. Some people, like Peter Jay Novins, just push. If they do it hard enough, and long enough, something might just push back... from the Twilight Zone.

[last lines]

Narrator:
[narration] Peter Jay Novins, both victor and victim, of a brief struggle for custody of a man's soul. A man who lost himself, and found himself, on a lonely battlefield, somewhere in the Twilight Zone.

Radio newscaster:
I... I can't believe this is happening. It's... it's all over. We've... just had a confirmation the first Soviet missle will reach the U.S. airspace in a matter of minutes. OK... OK... those of you listening should immediately go to the nearest public shelter. What's the point? It's over! It's over! We're history. Yeah, OK, I'll tell them. War... nuclear war has just broken out between the United States and Russia. ICBMs... full-scale nuclear war... There's not much... this is it. This is the end. We've had a verification Soviet missles have entered U.S. airspace...

Max:
[reading his review] "Mr. Lee's Chinese Cuisine: If you love your Pekingese, don't ask for a doggie-bag"? Is Mr. Lee's really *that* bad?

Harry Folger:
I wouldn't know. I've never had the displeasure of dining there.

Harry Folger:
In the arena of restaurant criticism, there is only "excellent" and "poor". There's no such thing as "fair".

Narrator:
[opening narration] Steve Cranston, a man living what Thoreau called 'a life of quiet desperation'. A man once successful, once firmly ensconced in the American Dream, only to have it turned into a nightmare. Steve Cranston, a statistic, whose number is about to be called... from the Twilight Zone.

Narrator:
[closing narration] It has been a time of changes for Steve Cranston. And the hard times are by no means over. But perhaps now the decisions ahead will be a little easier to make. There are no easy answers, here... or in the Twilight Zone.

Gaspar:
You show me anyone who'll eat lima beans without being at gunpoint, and I'll show you a pervert!

Narrator:
[opening narration for "The After Hours"] How fortunate for Marsha Cole to squeeze into the mall even though it's closing. Someone should remind her though: Doors that keep others out, can also seal you in... the Twilight Zone.

Narrator:
[closing narration for "The After Hours"] Imagine standing forever still, unable to act, to speak, to touch a reassuring hand. If you were released from such a fate, even for a while, wouldn't you hope to forget that in reality, you're only on a short leave of absence... from the Twilight Zone?

Narrator:
[opening narration for "The World Next Door"] For most of us, our secret heart's desire seems to lie behind a bolted door. But what if the lives we find so familiar are someone's else's dream come true? Perhaps, for all of us, somewhere is a hidden door... into the Twilight Zone.

[last lines]

Narrator:
[for segment "One Life, Furnished in Early Poverty"] It's rather bittersweet how we spend so much time trying to justify ourselves to the shadows of those who are long gone. And even if they were alive, would they remember? Would they recall what they had said or done that made you spend the rest of your life proving yourself? But if you *could* go back, wouldn't you learn that you were always the master of your fate? And if you learn that great truth, wouldn't it free you of a useless burden? Dead cargo... from the Twilight Zone.

[first lines]

Narrator:
[for segment "The Beacon"] They say every road goes somewhere, but that isn't so. Roads are just there. It is we who do the moving. They stop where we stop, not caring whether we follow them to our chosen destination, or... into the Twilight Zone.

Dr. Jeremy Sinclair:
[gestures to the room-sized machine] So what you have here is some kind of clock?

Edgar Witherspoon:
Of course not! Why would I build a clock? [points to his wristwatch] Three dollars, any drug store. Doesn't lose 10 seconds in a year!

[First line of "To See the Invisible Man"]

Narrator:
It's a world much like our own, yet much unlike it. A twisted mirror of reality, in which a man can find himself cast out, made invisible by public acclamation, belonging no longer to society, but only to the gray reaches... of the Twilight Zone.

[Last line of "To See the Invisible Man"]

Narrator:
A small footnote found in the court records of some parallel world. The name of Mitchell Chaplin, who served his sentence of invisibility and learned his lesson well. Too well. This time, however, he will wear his invisibility like a shield of glory. A shield forged in the very heart... of the Twilight Zone.

Narrator:
[opening narration] A beautiful summer day full of adventure for a young boy. On the surface, a field, like any other, soon to be covered with neatly arranged family homes. But today, this curious boy is about to discover a terrifying secret that can only be shared within the confines... of the Twilight Zone.

Narrator:
[closing narration] Time is the invincible enemy of mortal flesh; or so modern man believes. But somewhere in the dark past, a few of our distant ancestors discovered a way to bridge the millennia. It's a secret that was buried 12,000 years ago, and rediscovered for a brief moment... in the Twilight Zone.

Simon Foster:
Why don't you take my first marriage, save us both some grief?

Narrator:
[opening narration for "The Shadow Man"] When you're thirteen years old, you're supposed to be beyond those childhood fears of things that go bump in the night. Supposed to be. But for Danny Hayes, those fears are about to rear up before him, from the shadows... of the Twilight Zone.

Narrator:
[opening narration for "Opening Day"] The perfect crime is the one nobody realizes has been committed. Every day, we commit a dozen perfect crimes in our mind, and we never get punished, because those crimes never happen. That's the way it is in the real world. But murder, like a bad meal, has a way of repeating, especially when the bloody stroke is struck... in the Twilight Zone.

Leonard Randall:
These are sad times, Miss Blake. All that is mysterious, all that is magic has been leeched away. People who do not see the magic in themselves seek it in someone else. They are so desperate for mystery, for something to believe in, they are willing to accept without question even the most outrageous propositions... For the honor of being treated like sheep, for the distinction of being treated like gullible children they are willing to sacrifice. They would give it all for a scent of magic... Do not seek enlightenment in the vain and self-indulgent proclamations of those who insist you must pay for your own soul. Do not seek it in this box, or in the opinions of others. Seek it in the quiet turning of your own considered conscience.

Narrator:
[opening narration] Not so very long ago, before computerized toys and cathode-ray characters did our speaking and thinking for us, one of a storyteller's most important tools was imagination. The imagination of an audience. That was how it used to be. Once upon a time.

Christie Copperfield:
You're just saying that to make me feel better... Say some more, dummy.

Bill Lowery:
What does "lunch" mean?

Cathy Lowery:
It's a color.

Radio Announcer:
...out at the County Fairgrounds this weekend. There's going to be rides, games, and all sorts of prizes. Come on out this three-day weekend - that's Friday, Saturday, or Sunflower - and join all the excitement. OK?

Hotshot:
Still learning the new line, huh? I guess what they say about old dogs and new trumpets is true.

Older Salesman:
Don't let it get you down, Billy boy. It may take us a little longer to learn it, but we got one thing only time can give you: mayonnaise.

[phone conversation]

Doug Seaver:
Listen, Bill, can I get back to you? My wife's waiting for me; today's our 17th wedding throw-rug and I'm taking her out for a sail, and then to dinner.

Bill Lowery:
I'm sorry, Doug, today's your what?

Doug Seaver:
It's our throw-rug.

Bill Lowery:
Your throw-rug?

Doug Seaver:
That's right, seventeenth. Talk to you tomorrow.

Bill Lowery:
[to dialtone] Uh oh-oh Doug wait!

Bill Lowery:
[to himself] "Throw-rug"?

[Bill and Robbie bump into each other on the way to the elevator]

Bill Lowery:
Oh, hi, Robbie.

Robbie:
Oh, hey, Mr. Lowery. You know that new girl in accounting? Barbie?

Bill Lowery:
Sure.

Robbie:
I've been askin' her out and askin' her out and she finally says, "Okay." She's gonna be here in five minutes and I can't think of anyplace to take her for dinosaur.

Bill Lowery:
You're planning to take this girl out for dinosaur?

Robbie:
That's right.

Bill Lowery:
"Dinosaur"?

Robbie:
Uh-huh.

Bill Lowery:
What is this, some sort of new-wave expression or something: saying "dinosaur" instead of "lunch"?

Robbie:
No.

Bill Lowery:
Then what are you talking...

Robbie:
Look, Mr. Lowery, if you don't wanna - I mean if you can't think of anyplace, I'll just ask somebody else.

Cathy Lowery:
How was your morning?

Bill Lowery:
Pretty good, I guess. Except for one really strange thing that happened. I was leaving work, and this kid - Robbie? works in the mail room? - he stops me and he says...

Cathy Lowery:
Excuse me, sweetie, I don't mean to interrupt you, but this is gonna be done pretty quick and I wanted you to look in on Donnie before we eat.

Bill Lowery:
Is something the matter?

Cathy Lowery:
His cold's getting worse. He's so pale and awfully congested and he didn't touch his dinosaur when I took it in to him.

Bill Lowery:
[startled] What? What did you say?

Cathy Lowery:
I said, I think Donnie's cold is getting worse.

Bill Lowery:
No no no. Did you say "dinosaur"?

Cathy Lowery:
Mm-hmm, he wouldn't touch it and it's his favorite: tuna-fish.

Bill Lowery:
Why are you saying "dinosaur"?

Cathy Lowery:
What do you expect me to say?

Bill Lowery:
Did Robbie or someone for work call you and tell you to say "dinosaur" as a joke or something?

Cathy Lowery:
Robbie? Who's Robbie? Why would he call me?

Bill Lowery:
Then why are you saying "dinosaur" instead of "lunch"?

Cathy Lowery:
"Dinosaur instead of lunch," Bill, what are you talking about?

Bill Lowery:
Can't you hear what you're saying? You're saying Donnie wouldn't touch his *dinosaur*!

Cathy Lowery:
[confused] I know. And I'm a little worried.

Bill Lowery:
*"Dinosaur"*? Come on, Kathy, i-it's *"lunch"*! The word is "lunch"!

Cathy Lowery:
[annoyed] "Lunch"? What has "lunch" got to do with anything?

Bill Lowery:
"What has lunch got to *do* with any - ?"? All right. Okay. What does "lunch" mean?

Cathy Lowery:
[unsure] Bill, you know what "lunch" means.

Bill Lowery:
[angrily demanding] What does it mean! Tell me!

Cathy Lowery:
[a little afraid] It's a color.