Rose: Well, you were one of the lucky ones. It doesn't always work out that well. It sure didn't for Olga Fetchik.
Sophia: Just a minute, Rose. [puts on a pair of headphones and plays a tape recorder] Somebody give me a hand signal when she's finished.
Rose: Olga Fetchik was our town beautician. And one of God's most unattractive creations since the aardvark. Anyway, over the years, Olga had been secretly squirreling away money for plastic surgery. Well, one day she left without telling anyone, had the surgery and didn't return for months. Well, nobody could believe their eyes. Olga Fetchik had turned into a stunning beauty. Every man in town wanted her. She ended up marrying St. Olaf's most handsome and eligible bachelor, dance instructor Adolph Step. The two of them moved back to Norway, decided to get into show business, and they became the internationally renowned Scandinavian dance team of Step and Fetchik.
[A long period of silence follows as Dorothy and Blanche stare at Rose in disbelief]
Blanche: Rose, not that I care, but since you've already gone to so much trouble, just how did having plastic surgery ruin Olga's life?
Rose: Oh, it didn't ruin her life, it almost ruined St. Olaf. I mean, after she left, the town didn't have a professional beautician for years. Women started giving each other home perms. Pretty soon, everybody looked like Art Garfunkel. Husbands stopped sleeping with their wives, the population started to go down. Well, the town would have gone under if Oslo's most famous hairstylist, Vidal Sassbogadotter hadn't relocated his shop in St.
Olaf because of our more favorable tax laws. Now, you see why I don't like plastic surgery?
[Dorothy stands up, walks over to Sophia at the kitchen counter and turns the volume way up on her tape recorder]
Sophia: Ow! What did you do that for?
Dorothy: Why should we be the only ones in pain? You were saying, Rose?