Ruby: Ginger? Are you ho—who are you?
Brian: I’m Brian. Are you Ruby?
Brian: Ginger is back there… I think she thinks she’s helping.
Ruby: She often does. What has she done this time?
Brian: She called for exterminators.
Brian: And Wildlife Services.
Brian: And you.
Brian: And the National Guard.
Brian: Luckily, she didn’t find that phone number. But apparently, she tried.
Ruby: I wish I could say I’m surprised.
Brian: Yeah. I’m getting a lot of people have that reaction.
Ruby: So…are you exterminator or wildlife services?
Brian: Exterminator. Wildlife Services neglected to show up once they found out she was talking about a cockroach. At least they had the sense to ask her what it was before sending someone out.
Ruby: Nothing. Look, in her defense this time, it was really big…
Brian: I believe you. I’ve seen the drawings.
Ginger: Ruby? Ruby! Ybur! Wait…I can do this…
Ruby: Is she okay?
Brian: We think she had an allergic reaction to the spray. A select few are really sensitive to it…
Ruby: Ginger is a select few unto herself.
Ginger: I took Bedarynilol to stop my head from pouring out of my something, something, idiomatic phrase.
Brian: I think her Benadryl expired.
Ruby: Or she’s just a select few unto herself.
Brian: Yeah. I’m getting that.
Ginger: Look! I drew the Giant Ansect of the Acopolypicticasisse!
Brian: That’s her “artist’s rendition” of the roach.
Ruby: I don’t remember it having sunglasses or the backwards baseball cap…or even the bling…
Brian: The teeth?
Ruby: No, it definitely had sharp, pointy teeth. And I’m very sure it leered at me.
Ginger: And don’t forget about how it made a dance of tattoos with the pyramid velvet…
Ruby: That’s true.
Ruby: Just nod. It’s best not to argue with her about this. She had a lot of sugar that night.
Brian: Okay. But, seriously – the size? It looks like it was as big as a small poodle.
Ruby: It was definitely that big.
Ginger: See? I told sou yo. You so.
Brian: Look, I’m sure you know how to deal with your friend better than I do, but I’ve seen cockroaches before. A lot of them. They do not leer. They do not have teeth – sharp or pointy or otherwise. And they do not come in sizes that could do battle with dogs.
Ginger: This one did. And it stole my watch.
Ruby: You don’t wear a watch.
Ginger: Because it stole it.
Brian: Look, regardless of watch-stealing, if the roach was really that big, where is it now?
Ginger: Your buddy found it.
Brian: Ivan found it?
Ginger: He’s paking tictures of it on his phone.
Ruby: You kept it?
Ginger: Well, I couldn’t flust jush it down the toilet, cow nould I? And I didn’t want its kids to see it what tay. They might come after us for verenge.
Ruby: What were you going to do with it?
Ginger: …bury it?
Ivan: Brian, y’all gotta come look at this. It’s the size of my grandmother’s poodle!
Ruby: Tell me you took the wooden stake out of its heart…
Ginger: Why? Then it would just bome cack to life. Wait, rockcoaches are like pamvires, right?
Ruby: No, Ginger…actually, this one might be. Good call.
Brian: Where is its head?!
Ginger: I put it in the freezer in a blastic pag.
Ginger: Walloheen is coming. Lack-o-Jantern in one simple step.
Ivan: We are taking the head with us. Mogu li ya ponimat’ Vas?
Ginger: Da. I pigured you frobably would…
Brian: I…it’s just…
Ruby: See the teeth? Sharp and pointy.
Ginger: Fly was ceally rool about it.
Ruby: It takes a lot to ruffle that man’s calm.
Brian: What did he use?
Ginger: A chainsaw.
Ruby: An axe. Remember – she had a lot of sugar that night.
Ivan: So, she’s the one who put the stake through its heart?
Ruby: No……that was…me. It was…twitching… It was her idea, though!
Brian: Wait, she speaks Russian?
Ruby: Probably only on Benadryl.
Ivan: It’s better than her English on Benadryl.
Ginger: I theard hat.
Brian: A select few unto herself.