Frankie: [sighs] Well, I'm fine.
Mike: You sound great.
Frankie: No, I am. My ovaries are fine. Unfortunately, they're like raisins. And not the cute, plump California ones that dance and wear gloves. They're like the hard, shriveled, sad, deformed ones in the Raisin Flakes we get from the Frugal Hoosier.
Mike: Well, this can't be a shock, Frankie. I mean, you are 50...
Frankie: I know what I am, thanks. [exhales sharply] You don't get it. Because they don't shut men's factories downs. They only shut women's factories down.
Mike: What factories?
Frankie: This factory. I mean, I liked knowing it was open. Now it's all red-tagged and padlocked with bulldozers in the parking lot.
Mike: I feel like anything I say here is gonna be wrong, so... you want to just hug me?