J. Peterman: Bad news, people. Peggy is home sick.
Elaine: Oh, please.
J. Peterman: She's stuffed up, achy and suffering from intense malaise.
Elaine: Oh, come on. We all have intense malaise, right?
J. Peterman: I just spoke with her, Elaine. She's in bed.
Elaine: Yeah. Let me tell you something. This is all in her mind. Okay, she is insane. She thinks I made her sick because I coughed on her doorknob, rubbed her stapler in my armpit and put her keyboard on my butt. [to guy next to her] Yeah. She's a wacko.