Mr. Gerst: [on the phone] Dude, that did not happen. No, I'm in the hospital because I- They think I have avian flu. [Elliot clears her throat] I gotta call you back. [to Elliot] How long have you been there?
Elliot: Oh, 47, 48 minutes. I'm not sure, I nodded off for a while. Mr. Gerst I'm so sorry for laughing at you. But I have to tell you a story, when I was in the seventh grade, I was at a roller rink and I needed to go to the bathroom. So I just skated right on into a stall and I did my, uh, private business, and then when I went to pull up my pants, I started rolling towards the door, which as it turned out, wasn't latched. Now, I don't know if you've had any experience roller skating with your underpants around your ankles. It's very difficult to stop. Unless, of course, you know, you scream so loud that they turn off the music and everyone is looking at you. Anyway, that's how I wound up with the nickname "Roller Moler."
Mr. Gerst: I'm sorry?
Elliot: I have a mole on my ass. Oh, the cute kind, not the hairy kind. Anyway, the next day I showed up at school with roller skates on, and everybody cracked up.
Mr. Gerst: Why are you telling this?
Elliot: Because I owned up to it. This is funny, Mr. Gerst, and if you don't just embrace it and become part of the joke, then it will follow you around and devour you. Can I get a look at tha mole?
Elliot: No. Ahem. No.