Rose: Hi, Sophia. How was your meeting?
Sophia: Terrible. That weasel of a manager wouldn't budge an inch. He pushed us to the wall. Now it's all-out war.
Dorothy: What do you mean, Ma?
Sophia: Tomorrow morning, all Chow Wagon employees over the age of 70 are officially out on strike.
Rose: You're gonna picket the restaurant?
Sophia: No. Rose. We're gonna put on war paint and shoot flaming arrows at the covered wagon out front.
Rose: Gee, that might even get you on the 6:00 news.