Marie: What's going on? First you tell me my lasagna needs salt, and now Debra's frittata is good. ''Oh. Wowee. Ooh.'' ls this some kind of a scheme to finally drive me insane?
Frank: No.
Marie: Then why are you torturing me?
Frank: I'm not torturing you.
Marie: Then what are you doing?
Frank: I can't taste.
Marie: What do you mean?
Frank: I've lost my sense of taste.
Marie: Are you sick?
Frank: No.
Marie: Well, how do you know? Did you go to a doctor?
Frank: I'm not going to a doctor. I'm just getting older, okay?
Marie: So you're not gonna try to fix it?
Frank: Leave me alone.