Hey...
[looks up] Hey! [Lara cuts her thumb] Ow!
Oh, my god! Oh - oh, my god, I'm sorry, I --
It's okay.
[panicked] Ah, Jesus, you're disfigured!
[smiling, calm] I'm not disfigured.
But I could've killed you! When you were (makes chopping motions)... you know...
It happens all the time.
Well, should we call a doctor?
[giggles] Dana! [she holds up her hand, counting off fingers] Second-degree burn from the Béchamel sauce. Run-away shish-kabob. An attack from a particularly hostile live lobster, and, um, electric can-opener.
Is there anything I can do?
You could kiss it and make it better.
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