Blanche: George, is that really you?
George: It's me, Blanche.
Blanche: But you're dead. At least you're supposed to be. I buried you nine years ago. What in hell is going on?
George: Well, I guess the best thing to do is just give it to you plain and simple. Blanche, I staged my death.
Sophia: [o.s.] He stained his desk?!