Blanche, I need to talk to you privately.
Okay.
There's this person, someone I've known for quite a while, and lately there seems to be this attraction developing. An attraction I've been trying to deny-- Blanche, what are you doing?
[Blanche immediately gets up out of her chair and backs away in horror]
It's a curse. My beauty's always been a curse. I'm sorry, Dorothy, but like the fatal blossom of the graceful jimson weed, I entice with my fragrance but can provide no succor.
I'm talking about Stanley, you idiot!
Get outta here! Stan has the hots for me?
For me, not you, fatal blossom, for me.
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