Dorothy: What do you think you're doing?
The Priest: I'm giving you the last rites, Mr. Ferguson.
Dorothy: I'm not Mr. Ferguson!
The Priest: Then what are you doing in bed with him? The man's dying, for God's sake!
Dorothy: Wait a minute! There is no Mr. Ferguson in this room!
The Priest: Isn't this room 203?
Dorothy: 303.
The Priest: Oh, boy, what a day. Since I'm here, do you need the last rites?
Dorothy: No, thank you.
The Priest: Have you had your operation yet?
Dorothy: No, tomorrow morning.
The Priest: Well, good luck. I'm sure everything will be fine. But just to be on the safe side, I'll swing by here tomorrow afternoon.