The Golden Girls, Season 5

Blanche:
Listen, tell me I can't do better than this in my sleep. [Opens a book and begins to read] "He grabbed her. She could feel his fingers pressin' into her moist flesh. Her heart was poundin', her loins on fire. As he spun her around, her dress rippin' open..." You know how many times I've experienced that?

Rose:
[puzzled] Your loins have been on fire?

Blanche:
Yes! [Reading again] "...she melted into..."

Rose:
Where exactly are your loins?

Blanche:
Rose, it doesn't matter, just listen. "...she melted into his arms, faint now with the animal musk of him..."

Rose:
I didn't know people had loins! I've heard of loin of pork...

Sophia:
[indicating Blanche] In her case, the same thing.

Blanche:
[Comparing Dorothy's situation to the book she plans to write] Just like my heroine, sicker and sicker. Though, of course, my heroine doesn't look like you. This is a romantic novel, not science fiction! [She walks out of the kitchen laughing]

Dorothy:
Remind me, when I feel better, to kick the crap out of her.

Doctor:
[On Dorothy's illness] It could be functional.

Sophia:
Functional?

Doctor:
Mental.

Sophia:
Mental?!! Well, let me tell you something, Mr. 100% Tip-Top Mental. My daughter may be no spring chicken, and her jaw might crack when she chews! And she may have noticeable trouble digesting raw vegetables! But one thing she is not, is mental!

Dorothy:
Thanks, Ma.

Sophia:
Ribs, great... why don't you just kick the dentures out of my mouth?!

Blanche:
What a waste, Rose Nylund in New York!

Rose:
[to Dorothy] It's going to be a great trip, you wait and see. You're going to be cured, and I'm going to get to see the Big Potato!

[Blanche gives Dorothy a "See?" look]

Dorothy:
I said she was comforting, I didn't say she was smart.

Blanche:
Oh, girls, I have Writer's Block! It is the worst feeling in the world!

Sophia:
Try ten days without a bowel movement sometime.

Blanche:
You just sit there, hour after hour after hour!

Sophia:
Tell me about it.

Rose:
You know, there are all sorts of things that people get that they can't diagnose, and then they disappear as mysteriously as they came. Gustav Lundqvist got sick from something mysterious, and he nearly died - well, he did die, in fact. Then at the cemetery, Beatrice Lundqvist, his wife, kept screaming, "He's alive! He's alive! I can hear him from the grave!" Well, everybody thought it was the hallucinations of a grieving widow, so they sedated her. But when she woke up from her sedation, she told them that he said from the grave, "We never paid our '78 through '86 income taxes!" And his partner said, "Only Gustav would know that! He must be alive!" So, they all raced to the cemetery, and the entire town started digging like crazy, kneeling by the grave, using their hands even, dirt flying and Beatrice screaming. And when they opened that coffin, there he was... dead as a doornail.

Blanche:
What is the point of that ridiculous story, Rose?!

Rose:
The point is, Gustav didn't die from his mysterious disease at all! He lived and recovered. The trouble is, he recovered while he was buried, so by the time they got to him, he'd died of suffocation.

Blanche:
I just don't believe these stories you tell, Rose!

Rose:
Another tragic aspect was, the IRS was waiting at the cemetery to arrest Gustav's partner, Bergstrom. So, Bergstrom killed himself right then and there, by grabbing the gun from Sheriff Tokqvist and shooting himself. What they did then was, since the grave was still open, and everyone was right there, and Gustav and Bergstrom had been partners, so they put Bergstrom in with Gustav and had a double burial. Unfortunately, later they found out that Bergstrom wanted to be cremated.

Blanche:
Oh... shut up, Rose!!!

Sophia:
Rose, what the hell are you doing?

Rose:
I'm making omelets for us without yolks so we don't get too much cholesterol. That leaves us all these yolks which I hate to throw out, so I thought we'd give 'em to the homeless.

Sophia:
Fine, give them egg yolks. They'll die of heart attacks, they won't need homes. Your heart's in the right place, Rose, but I don't know where the hell your brain is!

Sophia:
[to Dorothy, who is about to leave for a doctor's appointment] Wipe off your makeup.

Dorothy:
What?

Sophia:
You look too healthy. Maybe that's why they don't believe you, you don't look sick.

[Blanche enters the kitchen in her pajamas, clutching her notebooks to her chest. She looks gaunt, exhausted and emaciated.]

Sophia:
[indicating Blanche] She should go, they'd believe her.

Rose:
Blanche, you look terrible.

Blanche:
What day is this? I've been up for 72 hours. I've had a breakthrough. I've discovered a new form of writing. I will go down in history. First I wrote all day, then I tore it all up, and then that night it came to me and the words poured forth like liquid from a stream. It was almost a mystical experience. Somebody else was writing this.

Rose:
Who?

Blanche:
Everyman. This is "Everyman"'s work. It's all gold. Just open it anywhere, the magic will touch you. But I'm so tired, I must sleep, but I cannot sleep, I'm too tired to sleep. I will never sleep again. I may die from this. I just don't know what I'm going to do--[seeing a bag of egg yolks; after a minute she picks them up and studies them]--my God, I'm hallucinating! I see little balls of sunshine in a bag! Does this mean something?

Rose:
Those are egg yolks, Blanche.

Blanche:
[tosses bag aside] My brain's gone. My body is limp with exhaustion. I suppose all the greats knew this feeling. And the thing is, after all this, I've decided not to sell my book. It's too good to sell. They can publish it after I'm dead, like Vincent van Gogh.

Dorothy:
Van Gogh was a painter, Blanche.

Blanche:
Whatever. It's all the same thing. We're all artists, we're all misunderstood. He cut off his hair, maybe I'll cut off mine. [grasps at her hair]

Dorothy:
He cut off his ear.

Blanche:
[contemplatively] I have too many earrings...

Sophia:
[tapping Dorothy on the arm and standing] We got to go. I hate to leave, I've never seen a show like this before.

Rose:
Good luck, Dorothy. I hope he finds something wrong with you. [Dorothy stares at her] Oh, I don't mean something wrong wrong. I just mean something wrong so that you know you're right when you know there's something wrong and you haven't been wrong all along.

Blanche:
My God, I can't even understand people when they speak anymore, I'm so tired. What'd she just say, Dorothy? Was that a poem?

Dorothy:
Rose, make her lie down.

Blanche:
[brushing past Rose] Well, I do try, I try, but I just flop right up again like one of those clowns you hit. [dramatically] I'll never rest, I'll never rest again! [Dorothy exits] Have a good time, Dorothy, buy me a present!

Rose:
[seating Blanche at the table] I'll make you some nice hot milk, and then we're going to pile you into bed.

Blanche:
Rose, you're my friend, so I'm going to let you read a few pages, but you have to give me your word you wont tell anyone, your word.

Rose:
Of course, and then will you sleep?

Blanche:
Whatever. I can trust you, I know I can. You're from Minnesota. People from Minnesota are honest, they don't lie. What could you possibly find to lie about on a farm? Must be some state. Lots of lakes and nice pale people... I'd drown myself. [Rose looks offended] Read, Rose, don't talk. I must publish a guide to go with my book, it's too full of references people could not possibly understand. It will be taught in universities. [stares at the bag of egg yolks again] Rose, what is this? Yellow eyeballs are staring at me.

Rose:
Those are egg yolks, Blanche--Blanche, you are exhausted. You have to sleep.

Blanche:
"To sleep, perchance to dream..." [gasps] My God, what a wonderful line! Oh! [shudders] I'm getting so good, I can't stand it! I ought to write it in my book, that line. What do you think, Rose? What page are you on?

Rose:
Well, to tell you the truth, Blanche, I don't understand any of this. It doesn't seem to make any sense.

Blanche:
[laughs] Doesn't make sense? Since when are you a literary critic, Rose Nylund?

Rose:
Well, I'm not!

Blanche:
You're from Minnesota. What have you read, for God's sake, Silas Marner? Paul Bunyan? Nothing! You know nothing! People from Minnesota are considered well-read if they get through the Sears catalog! [grabbing her notebooks] Give me back my book. This is why Hollywood won't get it, either. I won't have my words coming out of Glenn Close's mouth. I'd rather die!

Blanche:
If you will excuse me, Becky and I are having breakfast on the lanai. We're still bonding.

Sophia:
Dorothy, how come we never bond?

Dorothy:
We're from before bonding and quality time. We're from when people stayed together because they had no choice.

Blanche:
[in the sperm bank during Becky's doctor's appointment] What in hell are we doin' here? I feel like I'm in the middle of some awful dream, yet I know it can't be a dream because there are no boy dancers.

Rebecca:
Mother!

Blanche:
I just cannot believe you are actually going to give money to someone like this "sperm pusher!" You are a Devereaux, a Devereaux has never had to pay for it, I certainly haven't.

Dorothy:
She's always depended on the kindess of strangers.

Rebecca:
I got up early and did some research. There's a sperm bank not far from here.

Rose:
How convenient.

Sophia:
No kidding do they have a drive up window?

Rose:
Just last week, I was reading that you can buy the sperm of Nobel Prize winners. Or was it Star Search winners?

Blanche:
Buy? Well sperm used to be free, it was all over the place!

Rebecca:
Well, Mama, I'm going to do this whether you like it or not.

Blanche:
Oh? Oh, I see, missy. So this is the thanks I get for all those cold nights when you were a baby crying, and I had to get up out of bed and grope around in the dark for my slippers and robe, make my way all the way downstairs and, scream for the governess?!! [storms off]

Dorothy:
[enters kitchen and sees various plates of food laid out in front of Blanche on the table] Hungry or suicidal?

Blanche:
My little girl is going to have a baby by artificial insemination.

[Rose, Sophia and Dorothy all pause and stare at Blanche with shocked expressions on their faces.]

Blanche:
I just can't bear to think about it.

[More silence and shocked expressions.]

Blanche:
I'm just being silly, aren't I?

[Yet more silence and shocked expressions.]

Blanche:
For God's sake, someone say something!

Rose:
[shivering, making a disgusted face] Oooooooh!

Dorothy:
[to Rose] Big help.

Blanche:
Dorothy, what about you? You're always the sensible one around here, the free, modern thinker who keeps up with the times. Now what do you think?

Dorothy:
[shivering, making a disgusted face] Oooooooh!

Blanche:
What does one wear to a sperm bank?

Dorothy:
Something attractive in rubber.

Blanche:
[pauses] ...I have that.

Rose:
[to Enrique, the consumers reporter, on why she should get the production assistant job.] I am the battered consumer. I drive a Gremlin, for god's sake!

[the girls are testing different hair-removal products]

Rose:
Dorothy, would you like to try this thing?

Dorothy:
What is it?

Rose:
Well, that wire vibrates and it's supposed to whisk hair away below the skinline.

Dorothy:
I don't know whether I want to use this, it says it's gonna hurt.

Rose:
Well, you can try it on your right leg and then use the hot wax on your left one.

Dorothy:
Why don't we just set each other on fire?

Rose:
Dorothy...

Dorothy:
All right, all right. Let's see if they sent a bullet to bite on.

Dorothy:
I remember when I started shaving. I was thirteen, and I wanted to shave because I was going to a movie with Alan Steckler, you remember him, Ma?

Sophia:
Small head, enormous lips.

Dorothy:
Anyway, Ma told me that once I started shaving, I'd never be able to stop. I mean she said I'd regret it for the rest of my life because my legs would have bristles.

Sophia:
I was right. By the time you were sixteen, I could grate cheese on your knees!

Blanche:
You know, a lot of those European girls don't shave under their arms.

Rose:
Is that true?

Blanche:
They just let it all hang out.

Rose:
Really?

Blanche:
Bushy as can be.

Rose:
Well, what do they look like in a strapless dress?

Dorothy:
Like Milton Berle, Rose.

Rose:
Blanche, you saw that dolphin, all tangled up in that tuna boat's net. Thousands of them die that way each year. We have to do something.

Blanche:
You're absolutely right. From this moment on, no more tuna fish.

Rose:
Blanche, you hate tuna fish.

Blanche:
Alright, then no more tuna fisher... men.

Blanche:
Rose, Miles called again. He wants you to meet him outside the concert hall.

Rose:
I asked you to tell him I'm not going.

Blanche:
I'm not gonna do your dirty work for you, Rose.

Rose:
Well, I don't wanna talk to him. He makes me feel foolish. I don't even feel comfortable telling him St. Olaf stories.

Dorothy:
I want to know exactly what he said to make you feel that way.

Rose:
Look, I'm not going out with him. You go, Blanche.

Dorothy:
What?!

Rose:
Well, you like him, I know you do. So you go.

Blanche:
Well, I couldn't!

Dorothy:
Of course she couldn't!

Blanche:
You stay out of this, Dorothy.

Rose:
Well, why not? It's all over between us. He'll know that tonight.

Blanche:
It's impossible. I'd feel like a... like a...

Dorothy:
A backstabbing slut?

Blanche:
...No...

Rose:
Please go. For me. I'll feel better knowing this thing is finally over with.

Blanche:
Well, since you put it that way. But only as a personal favor to you, honey. I guess I'd better go get dressed. [Blanche exits]

Rose:
[to Dorothy] Can you believe that backstabbing slut?

Dorothy:
Rose, you are not stupid, you just... march to a different drummer?

Sophia:
Yeah, the little wind-up monkey banging on the snare drum.

Dorothy:
Ma!

Sophia:
I was agreeing!

[Rose runs off the lanai]

Miles:
She sure left in a hurry.

Sophia:
Hey, who told her to feed me cabbage?

Rose:
You're a college professor?

Miles:
What did you think I meant when I said I taught Hemingway?

Rose:
I thought you were old.

Blanche:
[to herself, after turning down Rose's invitation to the ballroom] I'd rather be tied to a tree, covered in honey, and have a family of grizzlies lick it off. ... [pauses for a few seconds, looking increasingly aroused] ...Why do I torture myself like this? [runs after Rose and Dorothy] Girls, wait for me!

Dorothy:
Hi, Ma. Hello, Martha. Where were you?

Sophia:
I'll give you a hint. The guest of honor had lipstick on her teeth and didn't give a damn.

Blanche:
Who died?

Martha:
My best friend, Lydia.

Dorothy:
I'm so sorry.

Martha:
She suffered so. It was a blessing in disguise.

Sophia:
I always wondered why blessings wore disguises. If I were a blessing, I'd run around naked.

[the doorbell rings]

Rose:
Oh, that must be the baby.

Sophia:
There's a baby coming?

Rose:
A couple from my church are going camping over the weekend and we get to take care of the baby.

Sophia:
Good. Maybe now you'll get some food I can chew!

Sophia:
How about a cup of tea, Martha?

Martha:
A little. I made a pig of myself at the funeral.

Sophia:
It was nice. Everybody had a good time.

Martha:
I'm going to miss her so much.

Sophia:
I know. But you said yourself, the last few weeks were so hard on her. At least now she's resting peacefully.

Martha:
I feel so bad.

Sophia:
Hey, I'm the one who should feel bad. Lydia and I were wearing the same dress.

Bartender:
Hi. Can I get you ladies drinks?

Sophia:
I'll have a Manhattan and I'm watching, so don't slip me any of the cheap stuff.

Martha:
I'll have another Harvey Wallbanger.

Sophia:
Seeing quite a bit of Mr. Wallbanger tonight!

Martha:
I'm celebrating, because I've just had an idea that will change my life. Order anything you like. I'm going to have the shrimp cocktail, the cream of mushroom soup, asparagus with hollandaise sauce, and the filet mignon.

Sophia:
I like cholesterol as much as the next guy, but you're never gonna get blood to your feet again.

Martha:
I'd like to drink a toast. To Sophia, whom I hope I can count on.

Sophia:
For what? Get your lips off Harvey and tell me what you want!

Martha:
Since you mentioned it, I want you to do something for me. I want you to come over to my place tomorrow night.

Sophia:
Oh, what is it, your birthday?

Martha:
Sophia, there aren't going to be anymore birthdays.

Sophia:
What are you telling me?

Martha:
I have so many things wrong with me - arthritis, high blood pressure, angina, just to mention a few.

Sophia:
Who doesn't? You can't get into a canasta game unless you have at least two debilitating diseases.

Martha:
You don't understand. I'm afraid of the pain, of the hurting. I'm afraid of being alone, of dying alone. I could take the pills myself, but I want you to be there with me and hold my hand.

Sophia:
You're right; I don't understand. I'd do anything to stay alive. If my heart stopped beating, I'd want every doctor in town jumping up and down on my chest.

Rose:
It was just a dream, Sophia.

Sophia:
It's not just a dream for me. Martha wants to commit suicide...and she wants me to be there with her.

Blanche:
And what did you say?

Sophia:
I said I'd think about it. You can't say no to someone who pops for a $75 dinner; tell them, Blanche.

Rose:
Sophia, I can't believe you're doing this! This reminds me of the story of Gunilla Olfstatter, St. Olaf's very own Angel of Death.

Dorothy:
Tell it, Rose, tell it.

Rose:
Really? All the way through?

Dorothy:
All the way through, but please try to make the end come as close to the beginning as possible!

Rose:
Well, Gunilla Olfstatter was a nurse at Cedars of St. Olaf Hospital. One night she was taking care of Sven Bjornsen, and he asked her if she would get him some more mouth moisteners and then kill him. Gunilla brought the mouth moisteners right away, but the killing thing, it seemed to go against everything she'd been taught!

Dorothy:
You're doing beautifully, Rose.

Rose:
He begged and he begged and by her coffee break she couldn't stand it anymore, so she pulled the plug and he died. Well, she was wracked with guilt that night. Not only had she parked her car in a doctor's spot, but she was never sure whether Sven's pleading was the pain talking or the medication talking or the guy in the next bed talking. You see, the guy in the next bed was Ingmar Von Bergman, St. Olaf's meanest ventriloquist.

Dorothy:
Rose, we are going somewhere with this, aren't we? I mean, if not, I'm gonna cut out your tongue.

Rose:
Yes! Sven came back to haunt Gunilla. Since then, every Tuesday night at ten - nine Central -

[Dorothy slams her fork down in frustration]

Rose:
...she hears noises. Some say it's the wind, but some say it's Sven's voice whispering back from the other side, saying: "Turn around, quick! His lips are moving!"

Dorothy:
[to Sophia] You see that, Ma? You kill someone, you end up being a Rose story.

Blanche:
What is wrong with this baby? Honey, darling, please shut up for aunt Blanche!

"Rose:
[To Dorothy] You know, in St. Olaf we had a sure-fire method for getting babies to sleep!

Dorothy:
If herring, elk, or anyone named Sven figures in this, I don't wanna hear it.

Rose:
Okay! I've got another one! Whenever my kids couldn't sleep, we always sang to them.

Blanche:
A lullaby?

Rose; Well sort of, Mr. Sandman!

Dorothy:
I don't know, Rose.

Blanche:
Dorothy, come on it's worth a try! It's either we sing, or he sings.

Dorothy:
Alright.

Rose:
Boom.

Rose:
[With more energy] Boom! Well?

Blanche:
Well what?

Rose:
After my boom comes your boom, and then yours, until we're all booming.

Dorothy:
How complicated is that herring thing?

Rose:
Boom.

Blanche:
Boom.

Dorothy:
Boom.

Boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom."

Dorothy:
Boom. boom. boom. boom.

All together:
"Make him the cutest that I've ever seen."

Dorothy:
Boom, boom, boom, boom.

All together:
"Give him to lips, like roses and clover."

Dorothy:
Boom, boom, boom, boom.

All together:
"And tell him that his lonesome nights are over."

Rose:
Boom.

All together:
"boom. boom. boom. boom. boom. boom."

Dorothy:
"Yes?"

All together:
"Bring me a dream, make him the cutest that I've ever seen."

Dorothy:
I'm so alone! [Turns to see the other two have stopped, looks at Sophia.]

Sophia:
Boy, you guys really stink!

Sophia:
Remember better. Remember life!

Martha:
I don't have much of one. I'm not like you. You live with friends and family, holidays and warmth. I...hear the silence.

Sophia:
We'll talk. We'll talk all the time. You can come over Thanksgiving, Christmas, every Friday night. I may not be there, but you could always talk to Rose.

Martha:
No, I want to go. Lydia looked so peaceful. [takes hold of the pills]

Sophia:
[immediately grabs the pills] We're not in this life for peace!

Martha:
You're crying.

Sophia:
No, I'm not, I don't cry.

Martha:
I can see your tears!

Sophia:
And I can see yours, you know what that tells me?

Martha:
What?

Sophia:
You're not as ready to die as you think you are. You still wanna live, kid!

Martha:
Some kid! I don't know what to do.

Sophia:
That's the point. If you're not sure, then you can't change your mind tomorrow. You wanted me to be there for your death. How about letting me be here for your life?

Martha:
Like a friend?

Sophia:
Like a best friend.

Dorothy:
Oh, my God, if they want to make spies talk, they should force them to grade junior high English essays. Kids today can't write the English language! "The characters in The Grapes of Wrath are so real that it's interesting."

Rose:
Weren't they?

Blanche:
All we did all night was talk about George. How much George loved me, how George couldn't take his eyes off me, how George would have to save his money to buy presents good enough for me. It felt so good talking about George.

Blanche:
Dorothy's going through her high school yearbook to see who alls dead.

Sophia:
That's my pussycat, fun, fun, fun!

Dorothy:
I'll never be rich before I'm 21, I'll never be homecoming queen.

Sophia:
You can still be homecoming queen, it'll just be a different kind of home.

Rose:
Dorothy, you're the smart one, and Blanche, you're the sexy one and Sophia, you're the old one. I'm the nice one. Everybody always likes me.

Sophia:
The old one isn't so crazy about you.

Dorothy:
Ma, these are your twilight years.

Sophia:
Are you kidding? I'm supposed to be dead! These are your twilight years.

Rose:
You all wanna see my vanskapkaka?

Sophia:
As long as I don't have to show you mine.

Dorothy:
[about performing at the comedy club] I couldn't, I'd be up there sweating bullets.

Sophia:
And dodging some.

Sophia:
Dorothy, where I come from you learn never to turn your back on family! NEVER! When your crazy cousin Nunzio started living with his pet goat, did the family turn their back on him? No. And after a couple of nights neither did the goat.

Rose:
[Talking about raising children] The hardest part for me was explaining to my Kirstin the difference between boys and girls. I knew the time had come but I kept putting it off. Finally I decided it was time to take the bull by the horns.

Blanche:
So you told her?

Rose:
No - I took the bull by the horns, turned him around and showed her what makes a bull a bull.

Dorothy:
You are kidding, Rose?

Rose:
No! That's how my mother taught me.

Blanche:
Honey, didn't that give you a false impression about...what a man would look like?

Rose:
It sure did! Can you imagine my surprise on my wedding night with Charlie? [Blanche guffaws] Boy, that bull would have been jealous.

Dorothy:
[Rose is upset about work and Dorothy is upset after falling out with her son Michael] Now look - Rose, stop whining! You know that you're going to have to speak to your boss about your workload. Wallowing in self pity is not going to help!

Blanche:
[walking in] How are you feeling, Dorothy?

Dorothy:
[voice breaking] My life is falling apart and now Rose is bothering me!

Rose:
Dorothy, I'm sorry I bothered you.

Dorothy:
I'm sorry I snapped at you, Rose. It's just that I am upset. I AM REALLY UPSET!

Rose:
Are you upset because you don't know what to do about Michael?

Dorothy:
No. I'm upset because I can't make any sense out of those commercials for "Obsession".

Blanche:
[about Michael] You just did what you had to!

Dorothy:
Blanche, knowing that does not help! I am going crazy wondering where he is- I mean he could be sleeping under a pier for all I know, or in some flophouse or out on the street!

Sophia:
[walking in] Michael called; he's staying with Stan.

Dorothy:
OH GOD, IT'S EVEN WORSE THAN I THOUGHT!

Rose:
Dorothy, I know you've done the right thing. In the animal kingdom, the whole idea is to teach offspring to fend for themselves. Humans are the only ones who think it's their duty to care for children their entire lives.

Dorothy:
You know Rose, sometimes you really say some wise things.

Rose:
We're also the only species that use corn holders that look like corn on the cob when we eat corn on the cob.

Dorothy:
Whoops, spoke too soon.

Dorothy:
[reading the newspaper] Miami will be busy this weekend with ten major conventions. Listen to this. ...the highlight being the Citrus Festival Ball, which is being chaired this year by 35-year-old Blanche Devereaux. How much did that cost you?

Blanche:
I don't have to pay for my compliments!

Dorothy:
You went to bed with him.

Blanche:
Twice. But it's not like I wouldn't have anyway.

Blanche:
[off the phone with Virginia, flippant] Oh, it's Big Daddy. He's dead. [walks away]

[at the Hollingsworth mansion]

Virginia:
You are the one who has never been here for the family. You.

Blanche:
I have always been here for this family and how dare you say otherwise!

Virginia:
Everything you do is for Blanche. To tell you the truth, I am surprised that you even made it to the funeral at all.

Blanche:
Maybe you would have been happier if I hadn't!

Virginia:
Maybe not happier, but at least this family would be able to grieve for Big Daddy without wondering what is in it for Blanche!

Blanche:
Oh, fine. Hey, you don't have a thing to worry about. You won't even have to think about Blanche, because if you're going to be at that funeral, I refuse to go! [storms out]

[Sophia hands Rose a note with the explanation regarding Blanche's citrus plate]

Sophia:
I wrote it down. You be Rose, why don't I be Sophia. This is what we'll say right after they walk in the door. [reads] "Hi, Blanche! You look beautiful. Welcome home. I love you."

Rose:
[reads] "I broke the plate. I'm such a clumsy fool."

Sophia:
Okay, now you can skip down to here.

Rose:
I'm not gonna do this!

Sophia:
Come on, you gotta! If it's the writing, I can punch it up!

Dorothy:
Oh, boy, it is hell out there. It must be 103 and the mall was impossible.

Sophia:
Did you get something for the grandchildren?

Dorothy:
Oh, please. You know Robbie wants a Batman hat. I went to six different stores, they were all sold out. I finally went to one store where they had one hat left, and another woman saw it. Ugh! I cannot believe a person would push a perfect stranger out of the way, step on her hand, and give her an elbow to the forehead, just for a Batman hat...but I did it anyway!

Rev. Avery:
Before we begin, I'd like to thank you all for taking time off from your own celebrating to provide Christmas for some who are less fortunate. We promise to turn away no one, remembering how Mary and Joseph were turned away at the Inn.

Rose:
Reverend Avery, it's always puzzled me. WHY didn't Mary and Joseph call ahead for reservations? [Dorothy drops a heavy spoon] Surely they must have realized how hard it is to get a hotel room during the Christmas season.

Rev. Avery:
I guess that's one for the theologians, Rose.

Rose:
You know, I've been thinking.

Blanche:
Oh, that would explain the beads of sweat.

Rose:
I sure miss a traditional St. Olaf Christmas.

Dorothy:
Excuse me, Rose, do we have time to run out and get hit by a bus?

Rose:
First there'd be the Christmas pageant with the shepherds and the angels, and the Two Wise Men.

Blanche:
There were three wise men, Rose.

Rose:
Not in St. Olaf. Then we'd all go down to the town square and try to form a circle, and then we'd all go home and smoke kippers.

Blanche:
Why, Rose?

Rose:
Because it's the best way to get your house to smell like kippers. And then, in keeping with the spirit of Christmas, it was traditional to let all the animals sleep inside that night. And then the next morning the rumors would start... and they'd continue until New Year's, and we'd all make resolutions that it would never happen again. But then the next year, all it took was a little eggnog and one wise guy saying, "What the hell, it's Christmas!"

Sophia:
Your brother Phil, God rest his brain, gives the worst presents in the world! What kind of a gift is dental floss?

Rose:
Well, it's waxed and mint-flavored.

Sophia:
[tosses package to Rose] Here, go floss yourself. This stinks! After the swell gift I sent him!

Blanche:
What was it?

Sophia:
A catalog item.

Blanche:
L.L. Bean?

Sophia:
Victoria's Secret.

Rose:
Like we say in St. Olaf, Christmas without fruitcake is like Saint Sigmund's Day without the Headless Boy!

Blanche:
You know, being here reminds me of my favorite Christmas back in 1951, which I spent at the USO, making a better Christmas for our boys getting ready to leave for Korea. I gave those servicemen something even Mr. Bob Hope himself could not give them.

Dorothy:
A rash?

Dorothy:
Remember, you only buy for the person whose name you pick, and it doesn't matter who picks you because it's bound to be a terrific gift. Go ahead, Blanche.

Blanche:
[Picking out a name for who she's going to buy a present for] Okay, I buy for... Dorothy.

Dorothy:
Yes! Oh yes yes yes yes!

Rose:
Boy Blanche, I didn't realize you were such a big spender.

Blanche:
[giggles nervously]

Sophia:
Go ahead Dorothy, you go.

Dorothy:
Okay, I I buy for.... Ma.

Sophia:
Yes! [she and Dorothy slap each other five and cheer]

[Blanche, realizing she is going to get Rose's gift, now looks mortified]

Rose:
This really was a great idea! This is really fun!

Blanche:
Oh shut up, Rose!

Rose:
My turn... I buy for.... Rose.

Blanche:
Oh! Thank You God!

Dorothy:
No, no, Rose, you can't pick yourself.

Rose:
Oh thank goodness, I'm so hard to shop for.

Dorothy:
Rose, you buy for....

Sophia:
Blanche. [Blanche looks pained]

Rose:
Thanks Dorothy, this really was a great idea. I don't wanna spoil the surprise, but in a couple of weeks someone in this room is gonna know how to yodel! [Blanche buries her head in the palm of her hand, while Dorothy and Sophia look on and grin]

Dorothy:
Rose, why are the Christmas cookies in the shape of American flags and Liberty Bells?

Rose:
I couldn't find the Christmas cookie cutters, so I used the Fourth of July cookie cutters instead.

Sophia:
[taking a bite of a cookie] I wonder where President Bush stands on eating the flag.

Rose:
[to a pregnant Mary] Now you come into the kitchen with me, honey, I'll get you some pickles and ice cream.

Mary:
Oh, no thanks, I don't have any strange cravings yet.

Rose:
Strange?

Sophia:
[to Mary] So when's the baby due?

Dorothy:
Ma! You're talking to a sixteen-year-old girl!

Sophia:
A knocked-up sixteen-year-old girl.

[Everyone looks at Mary, who nods slightly.]

Dorothy:
Ma, how did you know that?

Sophia:
She had the same look of panic on her face that you had when you were pregnant. Sort of like a deer caught in the headlights. I only thought pregnant sixteen-year-old girls had that look until I saw Dan Quayle on TV.

[Merrill is being released from prison to see Blanche after she's written him letters, Sophia is running around with a small box putting things into it]

Dorothy:
Ma, what are you doing?

Sophia:
Merrill called, he's coming over, so I'm hiding our valuables.

Dorothy:
Oh, Ma, I don't think he's dangerous. You've read those letters to Blanche. They're almost lyrical.

[Doorbell rings. It's Merrill]

Merrill:
I want Blanche.

Sophia:
Break out the finger sandwiches, Mr. Astaire looks hungry.

Merrill:
[To Dorothy] Are you Blanche?

Dorothy:
No!

Merrill:
[To Sophia] How about you, cutie?

Sophia:
Boy, this guy's done hard time.

Blanche:
Dorothy, you didn't tell me you were having company.

Dorothy:
This is Merrill.

Blanche:
Well, how do you do, Merrill? [realizing who he is immediately jumps from the couch] MERRILL!

Dorothy:
He is here to see Blanche, and we told him we don't know when Blanche will be back.

Blanche:
Oh, no, you wouldn't want to wait around for her, she's cold... frigid, hardly likes men at all.

Rose:
And she's ugly, isn't she?

Blanche:
Ugly is kind of a strong word, Rose.

Rose:
And wrinkled.

Blanche:
She is not wrinkled.

Rose:
And fat.

Blanche:
Stop that! You stop that right now, she is none of those things, she is gorgeous, gorgeous, gorgeous, gorgeous!

Merrill:
All right, works for me, tell Blanche I'll be back.

Blanche:
[after Merrill leaves] And stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid!

Sophia:
[about Mary's dog Samson] Did I ever tell you what that dog did to my friend Ida Silverman?

Dorothy:
No, what?

Sophia:
He ate her! Gobbled her up without a trace, support hose and all!

Dorothy:
Ma, Ida's daughter told me she moved to Fort Lauderdale.

Sophia:
The woman's in denial! I saw that dog with Ida's blue scarf in his mouth and no one has seen her since!

Sophia:
You think that since Mary went out and got herself pregnant, she's a slut. Well, let me tell you what a slut is. A slut is a girl who gets knocked up in the back of a Studebaker. It was a Studebaker, right, Dorothy?

Dorothy:
It was a Nash, Ma.

Sophoa:
Now that's a slut.

Dorothy:
[helping untie Sophia] Who did this to you?

Sophia:
[sarcastically] The Sandinistas!

Blanche:
[comes into the kitchen dressed in cowgirl costume] Oh, Dorothy, by any chance did you borrow my pearl-handled six-shooter?

Dorothy:
Blanche, you look ridiculous!

Blanche:
Oh, I do not! I'm a cowgirl! Yippie-i-o-K-Y!

Dorothy:
Ki-yay.

Blanche:
Whatever.

Sophia:
All right, all right, I can pick up a cue. Picture it: Sicily, 1912. A beautiful young peasant girl with clear olive skin meets an exciting but penniless Spanish artist. There's an instant attraction. They laugh, they sing, they slam down a few boilermakers. Shortly afterwards he's arrested for showing her how he can hold his pallete without using his hands... but I digress. He paints her portrait and they make passionate love. She spends much of the next day in the shower with a loofah sponge scrubbing his fingerprints off her body. She sees the portrait and is insulted. It looks nothing like her, and she storms out of his life forever. That peasant girl was me. And that painter... was Pablo Picasso.

Dorothy:
Ma, I have a feeling you're lying.

Rose:
Be positive, Dorothy.

Dorothy:
OK, I'm POSITIVE you're lying!

Thinking Group:
[in unison] You're special.

Sophia:
You're nuts.

Blanche:
What's the point of wearing this if I've got nothing to put in it?

Sophia:
I say that every morning when I'm putting on my bra.

Rose:
Dorothy, in times like these, you have to hold on to your faith. Just like Hans Gluckenflanken: St. Olaf's greatest explorer.

Dorothy:
Rose, please, let me have a little recovery time before you start a St. Olaf story--

Rose:
You see, Hans Gluckenflanken, set out for Florida, to find the Fountain of Intelligence. Unfortunately, when he got to Duluth he took a left, instead of a right and wound up back in St. Olaf. That's how he got his nickname, Wrong Way Gluckenflanken.

Dorothy:
Rose, how is this a story about faith?

Rose:
Well, when he got back it was the dead of winter. Tired and hungry, but still clinging to his belief that he would find the Fountain of Intelligence, he saw the miracle water, trickling out of the ground, and he fell to his knees and tasted it. Unfortunately, it was a broken sewer main. Two days later, he died of cholera.

Dorothy:
What is the point, Rose?

Rose:
He was positive he had found the Fountain of Intelligence. In fact, his dying words were, "I think I've learned something from this."

Mary Ellen:
Hello, my name is Mary Ellen.

Thinking Group:
Hi, Mary Ellen. You're special.

Mary Ellen:
Thank you. You're special too. Do you know why? Because there's no one else in the world like you. Do you understand?

Dorothy:
[To Sophia] Only an idiot wouldn't understand that.

Rose:
[Stands up] Mary Ellen, I'm completely lost. Could you run that by me again?

Mary Ellen:
After the lecture, Rose. Just like last week.

Blanche:
[to Miles' daughter] Oh, Caroline, one year after your mother's demise is more than respectable. Why, I've had people call me when their wife was in intensive care! Granted, these men were not pillars of their community.

Blanche:
Boy! Mother Devereaux was dead set against me marrying George. She wanted her little boy to marry a virgin.

Rose:
How did she know you weren't?

Sophia:
Maybe it was all those Honk if You've Had Blanche Bumper Stickers.

Sophia:
Dorothy, do we know anybody named Cecelia?

Dorothy:
Your cousin, Ma. She only has weeks to live.

Sophia:
Oh. Next time I'll accept the charges.

Rose:
[returning from a date with Miles to see The Glass Menagerie] Frankly, I was a little disappointed.

Miles:
Really?

Rose:
Yeah. When you told me you were taking me to a revival of Tennessee Williams, I was expecting something more along the lines of a seance.

Miles:
[laughing] Rose, I have never met anyone like you!

Sophia:
Check the cornfield on Hee Haw.

Blanche:
[on her scheme to put a fake ad in the paper for a Mercedes for sale, in order to meet men] I'm renting [a Mercedes] and pretending it's for sale. All day tomorrow, men are going to be showing up here for a test drive! You can tell a lot about a man by the way he drives.

Dorothy:
You know, that's true. Sometimes Stan couldn't even get the key in the ignition.

Dorothy:
[looking at old family photos] Ah, look, the Jersey shore, summer 1939.

Sophia:
Pop sure loved playing with you kids... why do I look so upset?

Dorothy:
Oh Ma, don't you remember? Pop was a big fan of Jean Harlow's back then, you hated it when he made sand breasts in front of the children.

Dorothy:
[about Sophia] Oh, damn it, I hate watching what this is doing to her.

Blanche:
I hate watching what it's doing to you.

Rose:
I hate watching those FBI warnings at the beginning of video rentals.

Rose:
Sophia, Dorothy, how'd it go at the doctor's?

Dorothy:
It was great. He says that Ma's memory problem could be related to a nutritional imbalance, so he put her on a special diet and if she follows it, she'll be fine from here on out.

Sophia:
[sarcastically] Oh, lucky me, I can remember from now on, my whole past is gone! I could have slept with JFK and don't even know it!

Dorothy:
Ma, I don't think so, you're not mentioned in any of the books.

Blanche:
Well, that doesn't necessarily mean anything...

Sophia:
You know, I hate getting old. You always seem to be losing something. First, it's your eyesight. Then people are telling you to turn down the TV set when you can barely hear it, and you could live with that. But this, they're trying to take something from me that I just won't give. I can't let this happen, Dorothy. I can't lose my Sal, not again.

Sophia:
Isn't it good to be back in the old neighborhood, Dorothy? Watching the kids play stickball on the corner?

Dorothy:
Ma, they were beating a man! That was sort of why I called the police.

Blanche:
Oh, here you all are!

Dorothy:
How'd your physical go?

Blanche:
Oh, just fine. The doctor just could not believe it when I told him my age.

Dorothy:
Why? What age did you tell him?

Rose:
A lullaby my mother used to sing to me when I was a little girl. So when I'm scared or alone, I sing it, and it gives me courage.

Blanche:
No song is going to help me.

Rose:
[singing] Over there, over there, send the word, send the word over there, that the Yanks are coming, the Yanks are com...

Dorothy:
THAT is the lullaby that your mother sang to you?

Rose:
Well, it was the only song she knew. During World War I, she gave out donuts and coffee to the doughboys before they boarded the trains for Europe. It works, truly! She said no one can be scared when they hear that song...except maybe the Kaiser.

Blanche:
I've been to enough funerals to see how they make up dead people. They look like clowns. You expect to see a dozen of them jump out of one coffin.

Blanche:
Oh, I'm sorry, but I can't have any scars. You see, my clothes are all off the shoulder...sooner or later.

Dorothy, Sophia and Rose:
[singing to Blanche as she is wheeled off to surgery] Over there, over there, send the word, send the word, over there, that the Yanks are coming, the Yanks are coming, the drums rum-tumming everywhere. Send a prayer, send a prayer, send the word, send the word, to beware...[An old World War I doughboy comes by and salutes]

Rose:
Now to lose those four pounds, I guess I'll have to go on a sensible diet that I know gets results - the St. Olaf I-Can't-Believe-This-Is-Cheese diet.

Dorothy:
How does it work?

Rose:
You eat nothing but rice.

Blanche:
That madman wants to rip me open from stem to stern!

Sophia:
Your two favorite parts.

Dorothy:
How's Blanche?

Sophia:
She's fine. She'll be up and back on her back in no time.

Rose:
Sophia, it's been wonderful watching you take care of Blanche all week.

Sophia:
I feel like a regular hospital worker.

Rose:
Oh, that's nice.

Sophia:
Yeah! I just took all the money and jewelry out of her nightstand.

Blanche:
[storming into the kitchen] Where's my money, old woman?!!

Sophia:
I knew that would get her up. I was born to heal. [hands Blanche back her possessions] Here's your money, and your high school ring, Class of Ni...

Blanche:
[snatching back her ring] Give me that!!

Blanche:
Rose, no encyclopedia saleman lugs around twenty-six volumes door to door.

Rose:
Are you kidding? In St. Olaf they carry fifty-two.

Blanche:
Why?

Rose:
Balance!

Dorothy:
Rose, why don't they just carry thirteen in each hand?

Rose:
[thinks] Excuse me, I have to make a phone call. [leaves]

Sophia:
[dressed as Sonny Bono] Well, Rose, do I look like the mayor of Palm Springs?

Rose:
Doug Henning is the mayor of Palm Springs?

Sophia:
...Just play the music, Rose.

Blanche:
[sees Dorothy and Sophia in their Sonny and Cher outfits] Oh, for goodness sakes, why you two could be celebrity lookalikes!

Dorothy:
Oh, Blanche, honey, you really think so?

Blanche:
Well, absolutely! So, which one's Cheech and which one's Chong?

Sophia:
I'm Sonny Bono, you idiot!

Rose:
Blanche, do you know, at a truck stop in Tuscaloosa they have an egg dish named after you!

Blanche:
Really? How are they prepared?

Sophia:
Over easy.

(Rose sits in the kitchen with Blanche)

Rose:
Damn it! Why is this happening to me? I mean, this isn't supposed to happen to people like me! You must have gone to bed with hundreds of men!! [she gets up to go to the living room] All I had was one innocent operation!

Blanche:
[getting up to follow Rose] Hey, wait a minute! Are you saying that this should be me and not you?!

Rose:
No, no. I'm just saying that I am a good person. Hell, I'm a goody-two-shoes!

Blanche:
[sharply] AIDS is not a bad person's disease, Rose. It is not God punishing people for their sins.

Rose:
[meekly] You're right, Blanche.

Blanche:
Well, you're damn straight I'm right!

Rose:
I haven't been this scared since 1952, when St. Olaf's most active volcano threatened to erupt. Well, luckily, there was some Druid priests who were in town for the opening of Stonehenge Land. They said they could stop it if they could sacrifice the town's dumbest virgin...I don't know why I raised my hand. It must have just been the excitement of the moment. But they said the only way to prevent the eruption was to crawl through their legs up the volcano while they gave me my birthday whacks. Well, and you're not gonna believe this, it turns out they weren't druid priests at all, just a bunch of shriners looking for a good time.

Rose:
Is it possible to love two men at the same time?

Blanche:
Set the scene, have we been drinking?

Dorothy:
Ma, we need to talk. I waited up for you until two in the morning, and you still weren't home.

Sophia:
Oh, yea, Gertie and I and some of the girls went to Wolfie's to pick up guys.

Dorothy:
I called Wolfie's at 11, you weren't there.

Sophia:
Guess who got lucky?

Dorothy:
Oh God!

Rose:
[after Miles forcefully tells her to stop seeing Buzz] Oh, Miles. I find this side of you very exciting!

Miles:
Well, it's the jungle cat in me. I try to keep it very carefully hidden, of course.

Rose:
[smiling seductively] M-R-R-R-OWL!

Sophia:
Oh, my God. Now she's with the other boyfriend. It's like living with Cher. [goes into the kitchen]

Dorothy:
Ma.

Blanche:
Sophia, you're here. And you have your suitcase. Does that mean you're moving back?

Sophia:
I don't get it. I'm gone a few days and the dumb one's in there acting like a slut, while the slut's in here being stupid.

Sophia:
Ciao, Auf Wiedersehen, arrivederci and sayonara.

Rose:
Gee, she could have at least said goodbye.

Blanche:
[on Rose's feelings for Buzz] First love can be very powerful. I felt the same way about Heywood Boyle, the star pitcher on our high school baseball team. Oh, an amazing athlete. That man had exceptional control... [gets a far-away, aroused look on her face] ...he was always up for extra innings... and his delivery, oh!...

Dorothy:
ALL RIGHT, BLANCHE, ENOUGH!

Rose:
Yeah, we get it. ... So what was he like in bed?

Dorothy:
I would kill Gloria if she ever wrote about my sexual escapades.

Sophia:
You'd kill your sister over a pamphlet?

Sophia:
[in the bookstore] If you need me, I'll be in the "Bitter Children of Celebrities" section.

Dorothy:
Rose, you're bringing down the curve for the whole country!

Magda:
[marveling at Blanche's house] Such a beautiful home! Who sleeps with government official?

Dorothy:
That would be my friend Blanche.

Magda:
[on Communism] The way things were, we knew what to do, the choices were easy. When there is one road, no one gets lost.

Rose:
Not necessarily. Back in St. Olaf---

Dorothy:
Rose, is this a story about someone getting lost?

Rose:
Uh-huh.

Dorothy:
Well, don't tell us, show us.

Blanche:
[confronting Charmaine at her book-signing] Well, I should've known I couldn't trust you, that all that "Let's be sisters" stuff was just a bunch of bull! You had no right to use my life for your book, to twist facts so that beautiful, sacred love became so much tawdry trash! I earned that "A" in History! For the first time in my life, I am ashamed to be a Hollingsworth. Vixen: Story of a Woman is nothing but a vulgar collection of perverse sexual acts that are sheer and utter FILTH!

[Blanche slams her copy of the book down on Charmaine's table and storms away. Immediately, upon hearing Blanche's description of the book, a large group of people - including Magda and Sophia - runs toward the table, snatches up copies of the book, and begins eagerly reading.]

Dorothy:
You know something, Blanche, you're not the only one who ever had a problem with sisters. When I was a kid, I had a doll named Mrs. Doolittle, and Gloria was not supposed to---

Sophia:
Do we have to listen to that damn Mrs. Doolittle story again?! So your sister broke your doll! It was 50 years ago!

Dorothy:
It was very traumatic. [voice breaking] She was my favorite doll! I didn't talk to Gloria for months. But eventually, Blanche, I realized, sisters are harder to replace than dolls, so we made up. And I vowed right then and there never, ever to fight over something so childish and silly again---[to Sophia] ---MY FAVORITE!

Rose:
I have a sister story I think you'll find interesting...

Dorothy:
She didn't just break it, she made it so the eyes would never close again! She made Mrs. Doolittle look like a morphine addict!

[Rose has begun to tell a St. Olaf story but Dorothy and Sophia haven't forgotten Mrs. Doolittle.]

Rose:
Now, here's the scary part. Suddenly I realized I was this frightened little girl alone in the big city.

Dorothy:
[to Sophia] Accident, my foot!

Rose:
It started to rain, and I stood there in the middle of the town square and cried...

Sophia:
Gloria was the one who had to get the rabies shot!

Dorothy:
[turns to Blanche] I was a biter.

Magda:
I had very bad fight with my sister once.

Blanche:
Oh, really? Tell us about it.

Magda:
I turned her over to secret police.

Blanche:
And?

Magda:
And what? I turned her over to secret police. No more to tell.

Magda:
Rose, how can you say America is the best. Everywhere you look, you see the rich take advantage of the poor, there is so much inequity.

Rose:
Well sure there's inequities but at least we treat everybody the same.

Rose:
I had the strangest dream last night. I was at a baseball game. Charlie Brown was pitching, Schroeder was behind the plate, Lucy and Snoopy were in center field, and they wouldn't let me play. When I woke up, I was crying. What do you think it is?

Dorothy:
Peanuts envy?

Dorothy:
He was trapped in a bad marriage.

Sophia:
There is no such thing being as trapped in a marriage. In this country, you can get divorced, in Sicily there was no divorce, you had to resort to lupara.

Rose:
Is that some kind of legal loophole?

Sophia:
It's some kind of sawed-off shotgun.

Dorothy:
I was in a room with you once before when your wife called, and you told her you were alone... then you were cheating on her.

Glen:
Yeah, with you.

Dorothy:
But I've also been Bernice, and I've had my husband call me, and he was always alone too.

Glen:
Our entire block was Irish, the kids on the next block were all Italian. We all took turns beating each other up on the way home from school.

Rose:
I think it's nice when children take turns.

Rose:
It's the oldest confidence game in the world, the pigeon drop.

Sophia:
It wasn't his idea, the nun suggested it.

Rose:
She was in on it too, that's why it's called a confidence game. They have to win your confidence so you'll hand over your money and get stuck with worthless paper.

Sophia:
I don't know what the Church is coming to.

Blanche:
[trapped in a bathroom stall] Dorothy, let me out of here right now!

Dorothy:
There's only one way out, Blanche, and I don't think you can hold your breath long enough.

Blanche:
You're just making a mountain out of a molehill.

Dorothy:
Five years of molehills. They add up.

Dorothy:
Sounds to me like you two just had a little misunderstanding. [banging on the stall door to emphasize each word] NOT FIVE YEARS OF DELIBERATE BETRAYAL OF TRUST!

Blanche:
Dorothy, you do that one more time, I'm gonna write on this wall "for a good time, call Dorothy Zbornak".

Dorothy:
Blanche, this is the ladies' room.

Blanche:
[evilly] Right.

Dorothy:
What are you saying, Rose? Weddings get you hot?

Rose:
Yes. I mean, it was fine when Charlie was alive, but oh, I'll never forget that first wedding after he died. So now you see why I can't go if Miles is going to be out of town. I might end up almost going to bed with the caterer again!

Blanche:
Rose, I want to help, but first you have to tell me what the problem is.

Rose:
[referring to her painting] I think it's impossible to paint autumn in St. Olaf.

Dorothy:
How come?

Rose:
Maybe it's because of the horrible St. Olaf Falling Leif story.

Dorothy:
Rose, if this a story about a man named Leif, I don't want to hear it.

Rose:
It's not that long.

Dorothy:
No.

Rose:
It has a surprise ending.

Dorothy:
All right Rose, just the ending, but keep it short!

Rose:
...Splat!

Rose:
[on her paintings] I call them "Winter of St. Olaf," "Spring of St. Olaf," and "Summer of St. Olaf."

Donald:
Why haven't you painted the "Fall of St. Olaf"?

Rose:
Because it hasn't happened yet. Although we came pretty close when New Math came along.

Blanche:
Rose, I think he's referring to autumn.

Dorothy:
Blanche, what's wrong, you're shaking?

Blanche:
I have been humiliated and degraded.

Sophia:
Many times, you're just figuring it out now?

Blanche:
Sophia, I've decided to wear this little watch on a chain nestled cunningly in my cleavage. Do I need anything else?

Sophia:
Implants.

Blanche:
If you need to know any more about me...I have pictures.

Secret Service Agent:
So do we.

Sept 9, 2019

Blanche thought the book -

Vixen - Story of a woman

by her sister Charmaine Hollingsworth ,

was all about her.

It was about Charmaine and how she would wake up to

wine and roses.

A little sibling rivalry sometimes

Blanche:
I need the professional care of the most talented hairdresser in Miami - Robert. Oh, he's brilliant. Do you know, he was the first one ever to use mousse?

Rose:
I'd check my facts if I were you, Blanche. Mr. Ingrid of St. Olaf has been using mousse ever since I can remember. Of course, it's his own professional secret which part of the moose he uses. But it'll keep your hair in place in winds up to 130 miles an hour!

Blanche:
I just don't believe you, Rose!

Rose:
Ask Conway Twitty!