It’s just past 1230 noon on Bleeker Street. Blanche rolls in from the kitchen- after fixing herself an egg salad sandwich on whole wheat with a baby dill pickle on the side. She finds Jane- her sister, in the parlour thumbing through the National Enquirer.
Jane: For Christ’s sake Blanche look at this picture of Whitney in her coffin.
Blanche: If you ask me Jane Dear, I believe it’s terribly disgusting and inappropriate!
Jane: I know! ~puff~ exactly what I thought too! That hairstyle screams 80’s!
(Blanche looks at Jane incredulously. She shakes her head and rolls up to face her.)
Blanche: Jane Dear, what would you say if I told you I was going to get a dog?
Jane: A what? What the #*&^% would you do with a dog? ~ puff, drag, puff ~
Blanche: Oh Jane Dear, take him for a walk for one thing.
Jane: Hah! Don’t make me *&*#*^% laugh! You’d take it for a roll! Hah! Hah! ~puff~
Blanche: A dog would keep me company when you’re out with Mr. Bernstein.
Jane: Well at least I have a man Blanche! Not a Goddamn Mutt.
Blanche: Oh I don’t know Jane Dear (smiling), depends how you look at him.
Jane: What are you incinerating Sister Dear? ~puff, drag, puff, puff, puff~
Blanche: The word’s insinuating Jane Dear and you know exactly what I mean.
Jane: Are you saying my boyfriend- Mr. Bernstein, is a “dog-faced” boy Blanche?
Blanche: (she smiles) Woof. Woof.
Jane: Why you #*&^%$# old gimp of a poor excuse for a Sister- let alone a woman.
Blanche: Now, now Jane Darling. Sticks and Stones!
Jane: Well if I had one of each Blanche, I’d be pitchin’ them at you!! ~puff, puff~
Blanche: Hoo, Hoo, Hoo! Don’t make me laugh! (she wheels away)
Jane: Hey Chair Lady! ~puff, puff~ Where the *&*# do you think you’re rolling?
Blanche: To the SPCA of course. Tell the “dog-faced” boy hello for me- will you Dear?
