[Charlie is on the couch, sick]
Charlie: Hello? Anybody here? Anybody gonna take care of good old Charlie? OK, then. [picks up the phone] Time to scrape the bottom of the barrel. [on the phone]: Mommy, I don't feel good!
Evelyn: Charles, don't tell me you've got a case of the Bangkok Drippy-Drip. [to her pedicurist]: No offense.
Charlie: No, it's either a cold or a flu
Evelyn: And this concerns me how?
Charlie: I thought you could make me some soup or put a cold wet cloth on my head.
Evelyn: Oh darling, I'd love to, but, unfortunately, Mommy's sick too
[Evelyn holds her phone up to the pedicurist, who is coughing violently due the the nail polish}
Charlie: That does sound bad.
Evelyn: Oh, it is.
Pedicurist: [In Thai, subtitled] I hate painting the hooves of this white she-bitch.
Charlie: What was that?
Evelyn: Oh, just my delerious fever babble. Bye dear.
[hangs up]

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