Flashcards in Rumors Deck (94)
Chris: Hi, Cookie. Hi, Ernie
Hello, Chris. Hello, Lenny
Lenny: Mr. Gorbachev?... He said, "I don't know. I never ate cat food before."
Sorry we're late. Did we miss much?
Chris: You have got to get Lenny to tell you the story about Mrs. Thatcher and the cat food.
It sounds funny already
Cookie: No, it's for my back. It went out again while I was dressing
You all right, honey?
Cookie: It's nothing. I can do everything but sit down and get up.
Hey, Lenny, is that your BMW? Looks like you put a lot of miles on in two days.
Cookie: Oh, don't tell me! Lenny! Claire!... I'm so sorry.
It was an accident, honey. We'll replace it, of course.
Chris: What about a drink, everyone?
I'll have something.
Lenny: I'm right near the bar.
Your all going to get me a drink? Sick friendly people. I'd love a bourbon, please.
Cookie: A spasm. It's gone. It's all right. It just shoots up my back and goes.
You all right, poops?
Lenny: Listen, maybe we should all sit outside. It's such a beautiful evening.
Okay. Okay, you kids, what's going on here?
Claire: What do you mean?
You think I don't notice everyone's acting funny? Three people want to get me drinks. Chris wants me to hear this funny story. Lenny wants to get us all outside. Everyone's creating a diversion. Why? I don't know. Am I right?
Lenny: Here it is
You all right, chicken?
Claire: It's all laid out. Roast ham, smoked turkey, duck, and pasta?
Roast ham? Duck?... That's too much cholesterol for me.
Cookie: A sixty-year-old Russian dress.
The dress is hardly an issue worth arguing about.
Cookie: I didn't say we wouldn't cook it.
She didn't say we wouldn't cook it. Why is everyone getting so worked up about this?
Claire: All right, Earnie, let's not turn this into group therapy, please.
This is nothing like group therapy, Claire. You of all people, should know that.
Chris: Please lower your voices. Were going to spoil the surprise for Charley and Myra.
What surprise? It was their idea.
Cookie: Listen, I don't want to take the blame for ruining this party. I'll do all the cooking myself and Ernie'll do the serving.
Honey, no ones asking you to do that.
Chris: Oh, give me a break.
What the hell was that?
Chris: Would you all excuse me for a minute? I hate when this happens.
Am I crazy or was that a gunshot?
Lenny: A gunshot? Nooo. I think it was a car backfiring.
In Charley's bedroom?
Lenny: Oh, I know. I know. I know exactly what it was... it was a balloon. They've been blowing up party balloons up there all day.
What kind of balloon was that, the Goodyear blimp?... I'm going up.
Claire: I'll get it.
I still think it sounded like a gunshot.
Clair: Hello?... Who? Dr. Cusack? Yes, he is. Who is it, please?
Is that for me?
Claire: Uh huh. Uh huh. It's a conference call. Mr. and Mrs. Klein, Mr. And Mrs. Platt, Mr. And Mrs. Fishman.
Oh, it's my Friday night group. I have a telephone session with them.
Lenny: Jeez, you are a pain in the ass. I'd better run up and get Chris. Dr. Dudley?... What?... oh, yes, my wife has a pain, too. It's no bother. Can you hold for Chris, please? We owe this guy a gift. Let's give him a Cookie as a patient. See where Ernie is with my drink, will you?
I though I heard Lenny in here. I have his spritzer.
Claire: I'll hold it for him. How's Cookie?
Not well. I have her some aspirins for her back, but she dropped them in the sauce.
Claire: Good. Then we'll all get rid of our headaches.
Did Lenny say what that sound was?
Claire: The gunshot?
It was a gunshot