[Blanche is trying to convince her not to use a favorite towel of hers to mop up the mess from the leaking roof] Blanche, please! I am in no mood to hear about the parade of endless sexual encounters that you have experienced up and down the Florida coastline with only this towel between your hot flesh and the cold wet sand!
I brought my son, Skippy, home from the hospital in this towel, Dorothy.
You're lying, Blanche.
Damn you're good!
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