I always thought it was strange, your husband staying home while you were out there, providin'.

Well, he's a writer.

[laughs]

Writer? The man naps more than a newborn pup. What's he writing about, sheep?

Is there something, Mrs. Connelly?

Oh, I guess ya could say there was something! I've got 'something' on display in my kitchen.

[Cut to a scene in Connelly's kitchen]

That is not a mouse dropping, it's a raisin.

That is the leavings of a mouse.

It's a raisin!

[Nancy puts the raisin in her mouth. Her expression turns to disgust as she hacks up the raisin]

I spayed it with Lysol.