Edith: Three times in one week! I might have to write you back into my will. What’s wrong?

Mike: Plavix… stuck in my head, so I looked it up. Something that you take when you have a heart problem?

Edith: Michael, I’m 82 years old. I have an everything problem.

Mike: Why didn’t you tell me?

Edith: That getting old sucks? You’ll find out. And I don’t tell you every little thing because I don’t want you to worry. And if you looked it up, you’d know that it’s-it’s for preventive /pri'ventiv/ purposes. Did you read that part?

Mike: Yeah, I kind of panicked /'pænikt/ when I got to the heart problem part.

Edith: I hope you do a more thorough /'θʌrə/ job at work.

Mike: Okay, I make the trip down here to express some serious concern /kənˈsɜrn/, and you mock /mɔk/ me?

Edith: … with love.

Mike: Okay. Enough of your stupid health problems, let’s get down to business, deal with some of my real ones.

Edith: You’re young. You don’t have any real problems.

Mike: Wrong. I am making way too much money and I don’t have a girlfriend to spend it on.

Edith: I know a few single ladies.

Mike: Really? I can’t go older than 70 though. It’s a ground rule.