Grace: Oh my God, Leona, that’s straight...

Grace: Oh my God, Leona, that’s straight gin!

Leona: (Tipsily) I thought that was just short for ginger-ale. I figured I better go on the wagon. It does burn more than the Kool-Aid stuff.

Buck: Now that’s my kind of wine.

Millie: My boyfriend made me Kool-Aid once and I didn’t come down for three days.

Esther: You know, Leona, I think you might want to slow down on the wine. It’s not good to overdo it the first time.

Grace: Or the last time.

Chelsea: I think if I’m going down to that basement, a shot of Leona’s ginger-ale is just what I need.

Leona: Oh yes! It’s zesty! I’ll have one with you.

Esther: Now Leona, maybe you might want to stick with wine, at least.

Leona: To Chelsea! (Tilts back the glass and passes out behind the bar.)

Millie: I guess we’ll have to get our own drinks from now on.

Esther: (Checking on her behind the bar) Leona! Oh dear we better move you!

Leona: Blaaaughhh… 

Esther: Oh dear… we better let you lay there.

Buck: Must be a rookie.

Millie: Actually, I think it is barf.

Chelsea: Okay. Enough delaying. I’m ready.

Millie: Are you going to hurl, too?

Chelsea: No I’m going to investigate the basement. (heads for the door)

Buck: I’m sorry, Chelsea, but I can’t allow that. You’re just a mere slip of a girl and no match for those blood-thirsty aliens. (He stands between her and the door.)

Chelsea: Thanks, Buck for making me come to my senses. Put ‘er there!

(When Buck takes Chelsea’s proffered hand, she grabs it, twists it and throws him to the floor.)

Ladies: Oh my! Oh dear!

Chelsea: What were you saying about a mere slip of a girl?

Buck: Okay! Okay! You win! I will let you go to the basement.

Chelsea: Let me? You mean you can’t stop me. You silly man, just like all the others. Anybody else got something to say?

(long pause as she stares at the ladies who nervously look away)

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