[The gang hears Frankie and Mr. Herriman talking from the kitchen after covering Madame Foster in flour and portraying her as her own bust]
No, Miss Frances. You are merely smearing the flour with that mop. The mop with the proper absorbent qualities for the kitchen is in the third-floor storage closet.
Well, if it's the proper mop for the kitchen, what's it doing in the third-floor closet?
Do not question my methods, Miss Frances. I guess I will have to do your job and fetch the mop. [exits the kitchen and enters the foyer; to the gang] Good afternoon. I trust the lot of you are having an enjoyable and rule-breaking-free day, unlike Miss Frances, especially you, Master Blooregard.
Oh, you betcha.
[to Madame Foster, portrayed as her favorite bust] Ohh, Madame, your favorite granddaughter is working my last nerve. I can hardly believe that you and that slacker are related.
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