(DIALING, PHONE RINGS, THREE TIMES, PICKUP)
GK (ANSWERING MACHING): Hello.
SS (MOM, ON PHONE): Duane? Duane honey, is that--
GK: --You have reached Duane. I'm not available to take your call. Please leave a message after the beep. (BEEP)
SS (MOM, ON PHONE): Duane. That is not an answering machine. I know answering machines. That is you. -- Hello?
GK: This is not an answering machine, it is voice mail. Please leave your message after the beep.
SS (MOM): Duane-- Talk to me. -- Duane? This is your mother. I know that's you.
GK: I'm going to beep once more. Please leave a message. I'll get back to you as soon as possible.
SS: Duane, I can tell it's you. -- It's you, Duane. Answer me. Duane?
GK: Why can't you just leave a message?
SS: Duane, I am a mother. Mothers do not leave messages. Motherhood is not about messages, it's about love, Duane.
GK: Mom, I'm just really busy now trying to finish up this novel. It's due on Wednesday.
SS (MOM, ON PHONE): Duane, I just called to remind you that it's your father's birthday on May 1st and if you don't want to come for our annual birthday dinner at Schnittger's with your dad and me and Harry and Luella, that's okay, but if you're not coming, I have to prepare him for it.
GK: I don't know. I'm trying to write a novel--
SS (MOM): I thought you'd be done with that by now. Not going so well, huh?
SS (MOM): You know what your problem is? It's your women characters -- you're just way off the mark--
SS (MOM): The way they talk-- you need to get out more, honey.
GK: You've read my novel?
SS (MOM): Women don't refer to them as --underthings,-- Duane.
GK: Who said you could read my novel?
SS (MOM): Duane, I am your mother.
GK: It's not ready to be read.
SS (MOM): Boy, don't I know that!
GK: What gives you the right to go into my computer and read my novel?
SS (MOM): It's a mother's right, Duane. It's a mother's right to know. And I earned that right when I lay writhing in that hospital delivery room suffering the worst agony a human being can suffer--
SS (MOM): I went through the pangs of death when I had you, Duane--
SS (MOM): If the CIA did to terrorists what you did to me, they would've been indicted for torture.
GK: Okay, okay'take it easy.
SS (MOM): Waterboarding is nothing compared to baby-boarding.
SS (MOM): I have not been the same person since.
GK: Mom, I'll come to the birthday dinner.
SS (MOM): I don't want you to cheat yourself, Duane -- I know how much this book means to you, since the last on went in the toilet. My gosh, what those critics said about you. --Reading this book was like waking up with a deceased relative in the bed.-- Where do they come up with things like that -- anyway, if I could push a 12-pound baby down a tube as big as your thumb, I'm sure you can write that novel.
GK: Thanks, Mom.
SS: Your dad wants to talk to you now, okay? Hank! Hank! (TR OFF) Come here and take the phone. (TR GRUMBLE) It's Duane. Your son. (TR GRUMBLE) He wants to talk to you. Come here. -- Duane, you still there?
GK: Still here, Mom.
SS: Come on, Hank. Come to the phone. It'll just take a minute and you can go back to your show. -- He's watching a fishing tournament on TV.
GK: Of course.
TR: Hi, son.
GK: Hi Dad. How's everything?
TR: About the same.
TR: Yeah. Just taking it easy. How's it with you? You staying out of trouble?
GK: Yeah. Everything's about the same.
TR: Okay. -- So how come we're talking then?
GK: Have no idea, Dad.
TR: Okay. Here's your mother.
SS: Give me the phone, Hank. Don't just drop it on the -- Okay. So -- you're coming to the birthday dinner on the 1st at Schnittger's?
SS: Okay, we need to order our entrees in advance. You want chicken or steak?
GK: Is that the only choice?
SS: Chicken or steak.
GK: How about fish?
SS: What did I just get done saying?
GK: Okay, I'll just have a salad.
SS: Chicken not good enough for you?
GK: I'd just rather have a salad.
SS: Some woman making you a vegetarian?
SS: If you're trying to lose weight, honey, it's exercise you need. Don't starve yourself. It doesn't work.
GK: Okay. How about I have chicken.
SS: That's what you want?
GK: It's fine.
SS: I don't want to push you into something you don't want.
GK: Chicken is fine.
SS: You don't sound happy.
GK: I'm happy.
SS: If it's steak you crave, then just say steak.
SS: Why don't I just put down steak.
SS: It's what you want.
GK: Didn't I say chicken?
SS: A mother can hear what you mean, Duane.
GK: Okay, steak.
SS: You're sure--
GK: I am.
SS: Okay then. You want that medium rare, medium, well-done, or what?
GK: I'd like you to choose.
SS: Oh honey.
SS: I can't choose for you.
GK: Just tell me how to have it.
SS: Well, how about medium rare?
GK: Fine. Medium rare.
SS: You're sure that's what you want?
GK: It's fine.
SS: That's what you always order.
SS: If I were ordering for you, I'd say medium.
GK: Medium then.
SS: It's just safer.
SS: Of course well-done would be the safest.
GK: I want my steak well-done.
SS: Okay. Steak well-done. What kind of dressing?
GK: Can I call you back on that?
SS: Sure. Okay then.
GK: Okay, Mom.
SS: Bye now.
GK: Bye now.
SS: Love you.
GK: Love you too.