Designing Women · Season 1
[Suzanne returns from a gynecological consultation with Mary Jo's ex-husband with the news that they are now dating.]
Julia, I didn't pick him... it just happened.
And it will happen again. Suzanne, if sex were fast food there'd be an arch over your bed. And I swear I didn't mean that bitchy...
Excuse me, aren't you Marjorie Leigh Winnick, the current Miss Georgia World?
Why, yes I am.
I'm Julia Sugarbaker, Suzanne Sugarbaker's sister. I couldn't help overhearing part of your conversation.
Well, I'm sorry. I didn't know anyone was here.
Yes, and I gather from your comments there are a couple of other things you don't know, Marjorie. For example, you probably didn't know that Suzanne was the only contestant in Georgia pageant history to sweep every category except congeniality, and that is not something the women in my family aspire to anyway. Or that when she walked down the runway in her swimsuit, five contestants quit on the spot. Or that when she emerged from the isolation booth to answer the question, "What would you do to prevent war?" she spoke so eloquently of patriotism, battlefields and diamond tiaras, grown men wept. And you probably didn't know, Marjorie, that Suzanne was not just any Miss Georgia, she was the Miss Georgia. She didn't twirl just a baton; that baton was on fire. And when she threw that baton into the air, it flew higher, further, faster than any baton has ever flown before, hitting a transformer and showering the darkened arena with sparks! And when it finally did come down, Marjorie, my sister caught that baton, and 12,000 people jumped to their feet for sixteen and one-half minutes of uninterrupted, thunderous ovation as flames illuminated her tear-stained face! And that, Marjorie, just so you will know, and your children will someday know, is the night the lights went out in Georgia!
I'm sorry. I didn't know.
Well, now you do.
[Charlene sees that the man that her blind date is very overweight.]
Mason Dodd (Walter Olkewicz): I can tell by the look on your face Suzanne forgot to mention my height.
What's wrong with your height?
It's too low for my width.
[Charlene starts laughing over what the card Mason gave her to call him...]
What is it?
His card! It says "Help, please call the police! I've been swallowed by a fat guy!"
[As Mary Jo nervously prepares for her first date since her divorce...]
Here is a quarter for the payphone, Mary Jo. Mother always used to give Suzanne and me a dime to call home in case somebody got too fresh. I don't think Suzanne ever used hers. She eventually used the money to go to Europe.
You can't spend the rest of your life crying just because Mason is moving.
Well, I just don't understand why he had to tell me this right at Thanksgiving! (sob)
Call him up and have him pay for a ticket to fly you to Tokyo.
Oh, Suzanne! I couldn't accept a plane ticket just because he feels guilty about moving away. I wouldn't have any integrity.
Y'know sometimes I think about stuff like that... then I just try and put it right out of my mind.
[Mary Jo and Julia enter in a huff and arguing.]
Look, Mary Jo, all that I'm saying is that I'm not gonna pay one red cent on that ticket, and if I have to I'll take it all the way to the Supreme Court!
What happened?
(very dramatically) We're on the way to the bank to make that deposit, right? But the car breaks down, so while they're working on it, Julia decides that we should walk to the bank and make our "drive-thru" deposit on foot... because the inside of the bank doesn't open until 10.
Sounds reasonable to me.
Thank you, Charlene!
So there we are standing in the drive-thru, and when we "pull up"--- so to speak — to the glass window, the guy refuses to accept our deposit because we're not inside a vehicle.
That's ridiculous.
So Julia commandeers the back seat of the woman behind us and starts yelling for this woman to drive us through the drive-thru! and then the bank manager makes Julia get out of the woman's car, and then the police come. Need I say more?
Well, Julia. If you're not gonna pay the ticket, what's your defense gonna be?
My defense is... that when I attempted to use that drive-thru window, I was indeed inside a vehicle; the vessel in which I have chosen to go through life — my body!
Oh Julia, don't be ridiculous. No judge is gonna believe that! If you'd gotten to choose... you would have selected a much newer model.
At our house it was kind of a zoo with eleven kids at Thanksgiving.
What was that like having a hillbilly Thanksgiving? Did you have Turkey?
(sarcastically) No. Possum! Daddy killed it, Mama stuffed it, then at the table we'd all have a big food fight, then afterward wittle sticks and sit on the front porch pickin' our teeth!
Ok ok.....I was just asking.
Well you're always just asking! I curse the day I ever told you we had an outhouse.
[Perky, Suzanne and Julia's mother, comforts a very defeated Suzanne, who attempted, but failed to make Thanksgiving dinner.]
Oh, my darling. You should have come to me for advice, I could have told you cooking was not for you, you were born for much bigger things.
Like what?
Like... when I used to take you to the park when you were about two years old, everybody used to come up and say "oh what a beautiful little girl... whatever will she be". And I used to stand very tall and say "Why the center of attention, o'course!"
[The police officer is confused when everyone starts pointing out Anthony — who is just waking]
I can explain. I'm not sure, but I think this man (Anthony) has been holding us hostage.
Bernice, that's not true!
Oh... okay.
Oh, Anthony. We just feel terrible. I wish you'd take some more of that turkey for your dog.
I don't want anymore of that turkey. I like my dog.
Anthony, we are so sorry.
We promise we'll make it up to you.
Don't worry about it. It's been a fine afternoon. Happy Thanksgiving. Thanks again for turning me in for murder.
Well, maybe you'd feel less ashamed if you changed outfits.
C'mon, Julia, don't be so stuffy. For some people this is conservative.
Yes, well... maybe Tina Turner while lying in state.
[The ladies debate over what makes a man attractive.]
Myself, I prefer the older established type.
You mean rich.... and terminally ill?
[Julia goes to see Charlene's doctor.]
Dr. Mitchell, I'm Julia Sugarbaker. May I come in?
Yes, but I hope this won't take long. I'm on the staff of three hospitals, and I still have rounds.
Oh, I understand how very very busy you are, and I'll be brief. I've come because I'm a very close friend of Charlene Frazier's.
Charlene Frazier is no longer my patient, so I can't see....
Actually I'm not here only for Charlene's behalf, but on behalf of all your patients.
I don't understand.
What I'd like to know is, how many more women are you gonna kill before you retire?!
I beg your pardon?!
You see, I've done a little checking on you, Dr. Mitchell, and I've discovered that Charlene is not the first woman you've told to wait and see. You said the same thing to another close friend of mine, only at that time I didn't know that you were her physician. Well she trusted you. She waited four months before her breasts had become so misshapen she had to come back, but by then it was too late.
Mrs. Sugarbaker, I don't think I would care to discuss with you medical judgments which you know nothing about.
Medical jargon doesn't impress me. I was brought up in a medical family, and my grandfather always said 80% was common sense. There's nothing mysterious about having a lump in your breast. It's simple, when you find one you have it x-rayed or biopsied. I know that. Most physicians know that. What I don't understand is, why don't you know that?
[arrogantly] Perhaps I'm of the old school.
[furiously] That's not "old school"! That's gross incompetence!!!
Well, it's obvious to me that you are an emotional, overwrought woman.
Not emotional, Doctor, I'm just plain mad. Which is why I'm filing charges against you with the state medical bureau and the AMA.
Well, if you want to make a fool of yourself, be my guest, but I can assure you you're in no way qualified to make these judgments. I think this meeting is over.
I think so too, but as for qualified, neither are you. You don't depend on medicine. Your weapon is intimidation. You're a seemingly kind, benevolent authority figure who tells women to let you do their worrying for them. Well there's just one thing wrong with that, Dr. Mitchell; you don't have to do their dying!
[As the ladies wait for Charlene's friend in her foyer, a gentleman comes in circling Julia.]
I was just wondering... If I was to ask for you specifically, would I get you?
I have no idea what you're talking about, but somehow I feel absolutely safe in saying the answer is no.
These quotes come from Wikiquote's Designing Women pages and are available under the Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike License.
