Rose: That was the case with Olli Stettlenmeier and Molly-Jane Doe.

Blanche: Ollie and Molly? Must we take yet another trip to Petticoat Junction?

Margaret: You’re father’s told me so much about you!

Blanche: I wish I could say the same!

Dorothy: Margaret, please, sit down.

Blanche: We ought to get her a booster seat!

Dorothy: Er, can I get you a drink?

Blanche: Chocolate milk?

Blanche: Hello, I’m Blanche Devereaux.

Dorothy: Blanche, this is, er… I’d like you to meet, er… say hello to Big Mommy.

Blanche: Come on. Sit down here on the sofa betwixt us.

Dorothy: Betwixt?

Rose: Another word you don’t know! I’ll bet you didn’t even know the thrice of them were sitting on the couch together.

Blanche: This is the last drop of that perfume Big Daddy gave me on my 21st. That was 20 years ago!

Rose: Ooh, Blanche! If your 21st birthday was then, you’d only be 41.

Blanche: That’s right.

Rose: You look terrible for your age.

Blanche: Here! Rose, Dorothy, here, smell me.

Dorothy: I only do that with the milk, Blanche. You know the rules.

Blanche: How can you say I look younger and more beautiful over the telephone? No, it’s true, I just wondered how you knew over the telephone.

Blanche: I always wanted to write a song. It’s like writing poetry, which I was never any good at. Only the tall girls who couldn’t get dates wrote poetry!

Rose: Why were you listening at the door?

Sophia: Because I’m not tall enough to see through the window.

[Dorothy and Blanche pop up from under the windowsill]

Blanche: I think I’ll retire too, to do my facial packs and compresses. It takes me an hour, but that’s why my skin is as smooth as a baby’s bottom.

Dorothy: That must explain the urge I sometimes have to diaper your head.