Dorothy: Let's take it from the top.
Rose: From the top. Oh, that's sounds so musical!
Dorothy: [pointing at the piano] Tickle the ivories, Rose.
Rose: [tickling] Goochie-goochie-goochie-goo! [laughs]
Dorothy: Rose, play or die! [Rose begins playing]
Dorothy: [singing the lyrics] "Miami is nice/So I'll say it twice/Miami is nice/Miami is nice/Miami is..." W-, wait a minute, wait a minute, wait a minute! You put in an extra "Miami is nice"!
Rose: I had to. It hurts the music if you don't put it in.
Dorothy: Yeah, but the lyrics don't make any sense! I mean, it goes, "Miami is nice/So I'll say it twice."
Rose: Oh, I see your point. Well, what about this: "Miami is nice/So I'll say it thrice!"
Dorothy: "Thrice"?! Who the hell says "thrice"?!
Rose: It's a word!
Dorothy: So is "interuterine". It does not belong in a song.
Rose: [playing and singing] Miami, you're cuter than, an interuterine...
[Blanche meets her father's new fiancee who is a young woman]

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