Rose: His name was Al Beatty. Her name was Beatty, too. She never married. I suppose I have to tell her.
Blanche: Oh, yes, you do. You cannot let the police tell her. Oh, the night George died, my telephone rang and a highway patrolman said, "Pardon me, ma'am. Do you have a yellow convertible and a husband named George?" I said, "Yes. Good grief, what's happened?" And he said, "Hold on, ma'am." He put me on hold, with that music while you wait. I sat there at two in the morning, listening to Herb Alpert and the Tijuana Brass. And then after an eternity, he comes back on the line, eating chips. He says, "Oh, I'm sorry, ma'am, but I'm the only one here. My phone's been ringing off the hook." I said, "Officer, what about my husband?" And then he said, crunching his chips, "Oh, he's dead. Wrong way driver hit him head-on. Totally dead, ma'am." Crunch, crunch.
Dorothy: Oh, no!
Blanche: Puts me on hold, and then eats Doritos while he tells me my life is over. Oh, Rose has to tell her. Rose won't eat chips.
Rose: I never eat chips. I don't like them. They fall in my bra.