Blanche: [groans] [moans] Oh, my, my, my, my, my!
Dorothy: Why do I feel the need to bathe?
Rose: So, how was it, Blanche?
Blanche: Oh, you might as well ask me to describe the glory of the Great Smoky Mountains as they rise from the mist of a Carolina dawn.
Dorothy: They went to a sleazy motel.
Blanche: Or the colors of the monarch butterfly, spreading its wings as it emerges from the miracle of the cocoon.
Dorothy: She got him to pay for half the room.
Blanche: Or the sturdy cypress reaching heavenward, tall and mighty and proud!
Dorothy: That one I think is pretty self-explanatory.