Chuck Bishop: What about dinner?
Nina Bishop: Uhm... I made a casserole. It's in the fridge. 350 for an hour.
Chuck Bishop: Looks good.
Nina Bishop: It's Iris's recipe.
Chuck Bishop: Iris is so talented.
Nina Bishop: What did you say?
Chuck Bishop: Iris is so talented. Is there anything she doesn't do?
Nina Bishop: [upset] I've got an idea. Why don't you fuck Iris?
[no reaction]
Nina Bishop: What? Cat caught your tongue?
Chuck Bishop: [baffled] No. I've never heard you use that word before.
Nina Bishop: Ohoh! Well, I suggest you get used to it, because I'm planning to use it a lot more often around here. 'Cause I'M the one who painted the fucking shelves, and I'M the one made the fucking curtains. And not ONLY did I make that stupid fucking casserole, I also make your fucking dinner EVERY fucking night. I'm sick and tired of doing all the fucking work around here, while you sit around MOPING all day like you're the only fucking person in the whole fucking world. And I'M rushing off to my fucking job, you still sit around in your fucking bathrobe. So FUCK you Charles fucking Bishop, FUCK you!
