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Quotes from "Ms. Wakefield"
Written by J.B. Cook
Directed by Allan Jacobsen

HANK: Now, I'm not gonna mention any names, but due to last year's unfortunate kissing incident, mistletoe is banned from this year's Christmas party.
(Everyone looks accusingly at Bill.)
BILL: Peppermint schnapps makes me sloppy.
DALE: Enough with your party, Hank. Help me figure out what to get Nancy for Christmas. I'll never top that oil painting I commissioned last Christmas: "Nude Dale In Repose." Tasteful, yet you can see everything.

PEGGY: I still cannot believe you invited that old woman over for dinner, Hank. That's like putting a saucer of milk out for a stray cat. One lap, you'll never get rid of her.
HANK: All she wants is a walk down Memory Lane. Besides, most seniors are lactose-intolerant.

LUANNE: You have such wonderful memories. Now I can't wait to get all old and wrinkly and grow a little hump on my back.

DALE: Don't you naysay me, Boomhauer. Once I find the right hook, this is gonna be the gift that keeps on giving. Say nay now, naysayer.

BOBBY: This is my room. It's chock full of memories for me. Like the time I dressed our dog Ladybird in my underwear and pretended that we were Calvin Klein models. (Beat) This is also where I read my Bible every night before bed.

MS. WAKEFIELD: The happiest years of my life were spent here. That's why there's place in the world where I would rather end my days.
HANK: End your days?
MS. WAKEFIELD: Yes. I want to die here. I promise not to be a nuisance.

BILL: I'll probably die in my house, wedged behind the bathroom door, inaccessible to the paramedics. Well, what can you do?

DALE: "Why die here?" you ask. Well, you'd be getting in on the ground floor of a wonderful investment opportunity, and all you really have to do is make two appearances a day from the afterlife, via this old antique mirror. It's not hard work, but I do expect quality. Any questions?
MS. WAKEFIELD: Can I go now?
DALE: Why, so you can die over at Hank's house? I can get you a dead little lapdog to keep you company.

HANK: It's reasonable not to want someone to die in your house, right?
PEGGY: M-hm. We cannot open that door. I mean, if Bill gets wind...

JOHN REDCORN: Hank, I understand that an elder wishes to use your home as an entrance to the spirit world. My people teach that a person must be happy at death, or they are destined to walk throughout eternity on their hands, so their frown appears to be a smile. Food for thought.

BILL: That poor old woman. She committed the crime of loving Hank's house too much. Are we not all guilty?

LUANNE: Ms. Wakefield? If you're under here, please don't grab me by the throat and drag me into the gates of hell.

PEGGY: Merry Christmas, John Redcorn. I made you some special reindeer-shaped cookies with toothpicks sticking in them like little arrows.
JOHN REDCORN: Quite honestly, Peggy, I was going to boycott your party to protest Hank's harsh treatment towards our elders. But I found out that Bill is my secret Santa. And he always gives cool gifts.

MS. WAKEFIELD: Maybe I could die some other time. When you're not entertaining.

HANK: Okay, here's one for Bill. Could this be that ear-and-nose trimmer he's been needing?
BILL: I hope it's hungry.

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