Lynda [to Kenny, on the other side of the door]: I'm making a few concessions here - just a few conditions under which I'm prepared to discuss your problem.
Okay, let's hear them.
I can't come in?
Conditions?
I got them typed up. [She passes paper through the letter-box]
Fifteen, Lynda? What I had in mind was a more personal, sincere apology.
I told you. It’s in your in-tray.
Kenny [opening the door]: Why do you have absolutely no conception of the responsibilities of friendship?
Oh, that's nice, the same day I send you a memo.
I just don’t understand why it’s so difficult to discuss a problem with my best friend.
And I don’t see why it has to be that particular problem. You’ve got hundreds.
What do you mean, I've got hundreds?
Oh, come on, Kenny, you're a complete neurotic!
I'm a complete neurotic? Well, let's just take a little look at who's talking here!
What do you mean by that?
Well, no offence, Lynda, but let's be honest. You're a selfish, paranoic, maladjusted, psychotic, complete bitch!
