Michael: So there really was no fight?
Lucille: Well, one tiny thing at the end.
[flashback:]
Lindsay: [sobs] How can you treat me this way?
Lucille: Oh, please! Everything I've said about you can be covered with makeup and a lie about a thyroid problem. Good grief almighty! You think I'm enjoying my slide into poverty? [knocks over desert tray] Sorry, Lindsay. There goes your dessert.
Lindsay: Why don't you eat it, Mother? Why don't you just take this cake and shove it [bleep] Hey, who called the cops?