SS: This fall, I suddenly felt fatigued, achey, stuffed up. It hit me hard on a Saturday morning. I had no energy, no interest in life. What's wrong with me, Dr. Shuwiler? Do I have swine flu?
TR: No, Jennifer.
SS: Food poisoning?
SS: Some sort of allergy?
TR: Yes, Jennifer, I'm afraid you've developed a very rare allergy that we don't quite know how to treat yet. (PAUSE A BEAT) You've become allergic to the Midwes, Jennifer. You're going to have to leave and make a life somewhere else.
SS: But this is my home. My friends are here. All the values I hold dear.
TR: I'm sorry but you'll have to move to Europe. Or New York. California, so long as you stay on the coast. You need salt air and fresh fruit and cultural diversity.
SS: But I love the Midwest.
TR: Of course you do. But there's something here that irritates the inner lining of your brain. It could be soybeans, it could be melted cheese, it could be a lack of irony. The only known cure is to go away.
SS: (weeping) There isn't a vaccine?
TR: No, and what's worse, Jennifer, is that you're highly contagious. You have to leave now.
TK: I'm from the Public Health Department, Jennifer. I have a warrant for your deportation. I'm taking you to the Isle of Capri. Put on this bikini.
SS: But my job! Teaching 8th grade English! Those kids need me?
TR: Too bad, Jennifer. You're going to Italy. Face facts.
SS: Will my health insurance cover this?
GK: Probably not.
SS: What can I do? I have no savings, no assets, and life in the Midwest is irritating the inner lining of my brain and making me miserable.
GK: Wouldn't this be a good time for a piece of rhubarb pie--
MAKES A PERSON WILD AND FREE
SERVE IT IN A CAKE OR PIE