Edgar: I go out, I work my butt off to make a living, all I want is to come home to a nice clean house with a nice fat steak on the table, but instead I get this. It looks like poison. Don't you take that away, I'm eating that, damn it! It IS poison, isn't it? I swear to God I would not be surprised if it was, the way you skulk around here like a dog that's been hit too much or ain't been hit enough, I can't make up my mind. You're useless, Beatrice. The only thing that pulls its weight around here is my goddamn truck!
[Just then, a flying saucer smashes his truck, and Edgar comes out of the house to look at the damage]
Edgar: Figures.
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