Margie: Edna, do not try to find me. I am in hiding. I know you're in a foul mood because of the Biddys but you aren't going to take it out on me.
Didn't I tell you not to go? Your old head is hard as a rock. I'm not putting up with any foolishness so you better calm down or pick up your bags and move.
You old hussy.
Edna: Don't you start with me, old woman, I'm in no mood for your nonsense. And if I'm crabby, it has nothing to do with the Biddys--it's because of all the stories I'm hearing about how you behaved while I was gone. Shameful, just shameful! And to drag poor Cousin T into your shenanigans, you ought to be hanging your head for corrupting a fine young man like that.
Don't you worry, I won't be trying to find you any time soon.
Margie: You're just mad because I went out with Pierre in his Roller Royce car. The mailman said he likes me best too. He even gave me a compliment on your pretty dress that I borrowed.
Edna: Margie, I could care less about "Pierre," if that is indeed his real name. I heard all about your exploits with him, and all I will say about that is if he's French, I'll eat my hat. And would you just listen to yourself? The only way you got my beau was to go out with him wearing my dress. Doesn't that tell you something?
How many times do I have to tell you to keep your hands off my belongings? I already filed a police report with Deputy Jimmy down at the station about what you did to my bedroom, so if you know what's good for you, you'll stay away for a long time. There's a warrant out for you, you harpy, so you'd better run far and fast.
Margie: Edna, you're a sour grape! Pierre is his name and all I know is that your clothes look better on me. My figure puts yours to shame.
I'm glad Deputy Jimmy is coming because I have something for him. Do you understand somebody hacked into your hard drive? That's what Mr. Hawkins called it. Anyway, I won't be in jail because of those pictures. You'd better think this over, you washed up biddy.
Edna: Oh, I see how it is. When I wanted to use the computer, you said it was yours and that Mr. Hawkins just gave it to you to use. But as soon as trouble comes a-callin' it's my computer? Well, you listen up and listen good: I'm not going to the pokey just because you couldn't stay away from those beefcake pictures. You're on your own, sister.
Margie: Edna, hear this! Kiss my grits!