Are you sure you're all right, Stanley?

Fabulous. Never been better.

Stanley...

Bree. Sabrina Claire Osbourne.

Look, we're gonna need more time with that. Your mother and I both love you-- But we don't respect you.

I'll never understand why you're doing this to me.

I'm not doing anything to you. I'm gender dysphoric. It's a genetic condition.

Don't try to blame your father and me for this. [Referring to Bree's sandwich construction] You shouldn't use so much mayonnaise. Are you trying to give yourself a heart attack? Let me do that! You know what I see when l look at you? I see a lost soul crying out for help. This would never have happened if you had only come to church when you were little, instead of going off to that synagogue of your father's.

[Appears]

Mom, Dad, there's this scruffy looking kid outside. [Observes Bree] Holy shit!

Language, Sydney!

I don't ****in' believe it! Stanley!

Bree. Bree.

Well, Bree, I was hopin' you'd show up one of these days, take some of the heat off me.

It's nice to see you, too.

If that kid out there's your boyfriend, I'm gonna slit my wrists. I need to talk to you in private. Oh, my God. He is! You lucky son of a- I mean, you lucky bitch!

Your boyfriend?! That filthy teenage juvenile delinquent who came to the door a second ago is your boyfriend?

He happens to be a clean, healthy and respectable young man.

I don't want to hear any more about it. How old is he?

17.

Oh, my God, Murray, he's underage!

Mom, he's my son.

You're shittin' me!

Remember Emma Wilkins?

What are you saying... is Emma here, too?

She killed herself.

Jesus! Kinehora!

Are you trying to tell me that that boy who came to the door...

He's your grandson.

My grandson. My grandson. Oh, dear God.

He doesn't know anything, and I don't want him to.