Ginger: Hey, did you ever figure out who sent you that giant knife?
Ruby: Yes. My parents went to a dinner party where the host was extolling the wonders of the knife and they thought I could use one just like it.
Ruby: Yes, Ginger?
Ginger: Were there other people at this dinner party?
Ruby: I will never again allow you to pick the movie we watch based almost exclusively on your weird Letter of the Day game.
Ginger: I don’t have a Letter of the Day game, weird or otherwise.
Ginger: Really. I have a Number of the Day Calculation and I rely on a rotational series of Letters of the Day for important decisions. Letters. Plural.
Ruby: Your mother had no idea what she was doing to you when she let you watch Sesame Street as a child, did she?
Ginger: Probably not.
Ruby: And choosing our movie for the evening because the title had P and H led us to watch The Perfect Host, which then led to a very long, uncomfortable silence.
Ginger: You were the one who asked me if that was how I host dinner parties. If you didn’t like the answer, you probably shouldn’t have asked the question.
Ruby: And we’re back to the doorway of an uncomfortable silence.
Ginger: Which was when I remembered you got a big knife in the mail and accused me of mailing it to you.
Ruby: Last week.
Ginger: I got distracted.
Ruby: Were you distracted by the formula for your rotational series of Letters of the Day?
Ginger: You make it sound like I’m neurotic.
Ruby: Having Letters of the Day and a Number of the Day does, indeed, make it sound like you’re neurotic.
Ginger: What if I told you I don’t actually have Letters of the Day?
Ginger: What if I told you I read about The Perfect Host and wanted to see it but I didn’t think I could convince you to watch it, so I had to create an elaborate ruse suggesting that it fell exactly into a mildly obsessive compulsion in order for me to convince you to watch it with me?
Ruby: That still makes you sound neurotic.
Ginger: …then we’ll stick with the Letters of the Day story and leave it at that.